Us
by deemsft
Summary: A bunch of one-shots of a developing relationship for Oliver and Felicity. (Rated M for obvious reasons, though that doesn't come along til later.)
1. Friendship

**AN: So, I'm a crazy Olicity shipper. I've just been writing some one-shots of them over the last week or so, and it's my first time putting anything up on , so be gentle guys - I hope you like it. xo**

* * *

When Oliver stalked into the Foundry, he was ready to spit fire and kill a few dummies.

It had been a terrible night, to say the least. Dealing with Thea and her new _friend_ hadn't been on his schedule. They were now adamant on finding the identity of the man who had saved Roy's life, and if he knew his sister, she would hound away at it until she got results.

When Thea put her mind to something, she was unshakable.

He wasn't going to risk her finding out.

"Well, someone's definitely in a mood," Diggle commented, looking up at him from across the room. He was huddled over the monitors with Felicity, who was bent over the stripped equipment, unaware of his presence.

"What? I'm not in a mood Diggle, I'm trying to fix this thing before Oliver realizes tomorrow and - _oh,_" she stopped short when she realized that Oliver was back.  
Oliver felt something in his gut tighten. The way she looked - her normally sleek ponytail up in a messy bun, her lipstick faded, her blue shirt wrinkled slightly - hit him, and it hit him hard.

The warning signs went off in his head.

"Shouldn't you two be at home? It's close to 2 am," he said offhandedly, trying to get his emotions in check. The anger was warring with the sudden outburst of lust, and he felt as if he would snap at any moment.

Diggle was used to it, but he wasn't going to scare Felicity off.

"It was Diggle's fault. I'd just like to point that out first. He managed to send my set-up system into overdrive and the monitor caught fire. I don't actually know how he did it but it's nearly fixed and -"

"What are you doing back here anyway? Shouldn't you be at home?" Diggle cut Felicity short, knowing that something was definitely wrong with Oliver. He hadn't even cracked the slightest of a grin at their IT girl's rambling. In fact, the dark glint in his eyes while watching Felicity was more than not normal.

Oliver remembered the argument with Thea all over again and nearly growled.

"My darling sister and her little boy want me to help them find the vigilante's location and identity because Mr. Harper feels as if he owes it to the guy who saved his life. I got into an argument with Thea and she brought up all kinds of nonsense, so now I have the urge to beat the crap out of something," he said, moving around to out his bow and arrows away while he stripped out of the green hood.

If there was one thing Felicity wasn't going to get used to any time soon, it was Oliver shirtless. The guy was built like a warrior, all lean muscle and broad back. She swallowed as he rolled his shoulders, and couldn't stop the blush creeping up on her cheeks.  
_  
Crushing this hard on your boss isn't a good idea Felicity,_ she scolded herself mentally, and bent her head back down to her current task.

She lost herself in the monitor, drowning out all the other sounds in the Foundry. Diggle joined Oliver in a round of sparring, and left her in her own happy bubble with her tools and the monitor.

"And that is how magic works, ladies and gentlemen," she said as she put the case of the monitor back on, screwing it up tightly.

"Well, I'm impressed."

She yelped as she looked up, taking an unconscious step back as she realized that Oliver was on the other side of the desk, in a t-shirt, watching her with a slight smile on his face.

"Oliver! Don't creep up on me like that, are you an idiot?! Oh my god," her eyes grew wide behind her frames, "I didn't mean to call you an idiot. You're not an idiot. Far from it. Being a creeper doesn't make you an idiot. Wait. That wasn't meant to sound like that either, you're not a creeper. And I'm going to stop this now," she nearly shrieked as she managed to clamp her mouth shut. She had just managed to insult her already angry boss.

He laughed. Honest to God _laughed._

She found herself smiling at the sight.

He was a beautiful man. There was no denying that. And in that moment, she felt herself gloriously fall for him, so gently and softly, that it didn't even hurt.

"I'm sorry for scaring you. But Diggle just left, and you were so engrossed with that monitor I didn't know if I should interrupt you. Do you want me to give you a ride home?" he asked, the smile still in place. And she did something she never normally did. Maybe it was the sudden change within her, or maybe just the realization that she could be a friend to him. Or maybe it was the loneliness that clung to him, even after all this time.

"Actually, would you mind if we watched something? It's the best remedy for a cool down. I have some DVD's that I left here just in case I ever had the urge to watch something, and I think you'll enjoy Supernatural," she rushed out, her hands clasped in front of her.

Oliver just watched her for a moment.

She understood him well. It was a shock, to realize that she was completely genuine and a fresh of breath air from what he knew. Here she was, standing before him, at nearly 3 in the morning, offering to stay and be a friend.

Sweet, beautiful Felicity.

"Sure. How many episodes are there?"

She smiled.

"More than enough for the rest of the month."  
_  
They fell asleep on the couch, both under the same blanket._


	2. Trust

**AN: I've decided to just put the second one up, because they're not very long. Also because I do like this part too! I'm going to be really greedy and mention the fact that I like reviews/ideas/criticisms too. Pretty please? xo**

**(Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or anything from Arrow. Just the ideas my crazy mind comes up with.)**

* * *

Felicity looked at the time again, before casting her eyes back at the computer screen in front of her. It was half seven, and there was still no sign of Diggle.

Not that she was complaining. Training really wasn't something she looked forward to.

Especially when it was every other day now.

But both Diggle and Oliver agreed that it was the best for her. Ever since that bomb necklace around her neck, Diggle had bullied her into learning at least basic self defense. Though that had been months ago, and they moved on from defensive to offensive rather quickly.

Which wasn't easy for a woman who hardly had any balance, not to mention hand-eye coordination.

"Hey Felicity."

She swiveled round in her chair and smiled as Oliver walked into the Foundry, a bag of food in one hand and dry cleaning in another.

"Hi. Is that take out?" she asked, eyes wide when the smell of food hit her. Oh holy God, it smelt like _Chinese._

"Yep, picked up some Chinese on the way, thought you might be hungry," he replied, setting the bag on the desk before moving to hang up the clean suit on the rail.

"Hungry? I've been craving Chinese for so long. Sweet and sour prawns!" she exclaimed as she literally dived into the bag, "I could _kiss_ you right now, excuse me while I die and go to heaven for a moment."

Oliver froze, her comment throwing him off guard. It had been a few weeks since they had started building a tentative friendship, when they had fallen asleep together while watching Supernatural. It had done nothing to stop the desire that was burning within him - everything she did, in all her quirkiness, appealed to him.

It took Felicity a moment to realize what she had said. Blinking, she looked up at him, and saw that he was staring at her, a look of bewilderment evident on his face.

"Not that I'm actually going to _kiss_ you. I don't want to kiss you - not that you don't have a kissable face - _oh god_ - it's just that its obvious you're attractive. But I don't want to kiss you - it was a figure of speech - _and are you not going to say anything?_" she said, giving up. She was going to have to buy some sort of surgical filter to stop her from speaking her mind all the time. Especially to Oliver.

"I was thinking we should eat now," he said, trying hard not to show how effected he was from her words. All he could imagine was her, body flush against his as he kissed her.  
_  
Imagining was still better than actually carrying the deed out. _

"Y-yeah. Do you know where Diggle is?" she remembered when she looked up at the time again.

"He said he has a dinner date with Carly, so he won't be swinging by here today. Why?" Oliver asked as he pulled out the cartons of food.

"Oh, I didn't even know. Wait, I think he told me, but I must have forgotten. We normally train at seven so I was just wondering," she explained, giving him a pair of chopsticks.

"How about you train with me today?"

Felicity nearly tripped over her own feet. Though he had been the one to suggest self defense lessons, he hadn't volunteered to train her, and she had an idea as to why it probably was better for Diggle to teach her. Oliver's control wasn't as great as Diggle's, having learnt all his fighting and defence techniques on a supposedly isolated island with men who probably weren't as civilized as Diggle was to her.

"With _you_? What if you snap my neck or something? Haven't you seen your own muscles?" she blurted out, her voice colored with disbelief.  
Oliver rolled his eyes, wanting to laugh at her comment.

"Come on. We can't let you miss a lesson. Go get changed into your gear and I'll set up," his tone left no room for an argument.

"But… The _food,_" she groaned, and he let himself chuckle.

"We'll heat it up after we're done. Now, go get changed. You're not scared, are you? You can trust me," he teased, and she nearly blurted out that she was. Oh, she was definitely scared.

How was she supposed to fend him off when he looked like that?

* * *

When she stepped toward the training area, she nearly whimpered. He was shirtless and in a pair of track bottoms. Her over active mind went into overdrive as she imagined him touching her.

"So, what has Diggle been teaching you…" he trailed off as he looked up at her. There she stood, in a flimsy tank top and a pair of sweats, her hair up in a bun again, her hands rubbing her bare arms.

Her skin looked so _soft_.

He felt the familiar tightening in his gut again, and tried to shake away the thoughts that were very vivid all of a sudden in his mind.

"We've been practicing hand to hand combat skills again. He's testing me, to see how much I remember. Not that anything is actually wrong with my memory, I just can't defend myself to save my life," she said ironically, moving over on the mat.

"Alright then, we'll practice until you can save your life," Oliver retorted back, and told her to take her position.

He definitely wasn't Diggle.

He came at her, fast and merciless. But he never hurt her. She had been worried he would, that he wouldn't realize just how strong he was. But she didn't realize that she had been learning, and the defensive moves came to her naturally.

He swung; she blocked. He grabbed for her; she rolled away. He jabbed; she swung.

Time was lost to the both of them.

They carried on, both sweaty and breathing harshly. She deflected his punch, but she didn't anticipate the swift foot hooking behind her ankles.

She landed on the floor with Oliver on top.

The air around them changed; something snapped, and the sparks exploded.

She looked into his blue eyes, her lips parted as she tried to slow down her breathing. He was staring at her mouth, her gloriously full, plump, painted mouth. He looked at her then, and she swore she heard the gentle sigh that her heart gave.

She felt right under him.

He felt right on her.

He leaned forward, and she nearly instinctively leaned up. His breath mingled with hers, his nose nearly touching hers.

"_Dead_," he whispered, and pushed up on his palms, breaking the spell.  
_  
They had the food cold._


	3. Jealousy

**AN: Okay, so you all are awesome! Seriously awesome for all the reviews. I'm sending everyone tons of hugs from cold England. Here's the third part - it's up on my tumblr too, but I've added in some little changes (if there's any grammatical issues or spelling mistakes, I'm so sorry. I've looked over it but I sometimes miss them) and what not. I hope you like it!**

* * *

When Diggle entered the Foundry on a Friday evening, he was slightly surprised to see Oliver over at the training area, beating the crap out of not only one dummy, but all three. He instinctively looked around, trying to spot Felicity.

He frowned as he moved over towards Oliver, realizing that Felicity wasn't there.

It wasn't often that her desk chair was empty.

"Where's Felicity?" he asked, and Oliver turned his head towards his friend, not stopping his vigorous work out. It was then that Diggle realized something was wrong.

"Why are you in such a mood?"

"I'm not in a _mood_," Oliver hissed out, landing a sucker punch into the stomach of the dummy that had Diggle wincing, "And Felicity is on a _date_."

Diggle smirked, realization dawning over his face. Of course Oliver would be pissed. In fact, he was beyond pissed.

If the two of them thought that he was stupid – or blind – they were clearly mistaken. Diggle saw the tell tale signs of attraction. Hell, he didn't even have to look – the sexual tension between the two could be felt whenever they were in the same breathing distance. He knew better than to voice his assumptions, but if the two were going to be stubborn about it, it was their loss.

Therefore he guessed them as being the stupid ones – no one beat around the bush like his partners.

"A date huh? And that's what got you all angry and brooding?" he asked, tucking his hands into the pockets of his pants. Oliver stalled, before sighing.

"No. Now, if you're done with the comments, I'd like to carry my work out in peace –"

"Oliver, you don't have to beat around the bush with me. It's going to happen sooner or later."

With that, Oliver growled, and stalked towards the newly installed bathroom area that he and Diggle had sorted out only a week ago. Diggle chuckled as he walked up to the club.

"You know I'm right! Have fun brooding, I'll go help out security while you wallow."

When Oliver returned, he put in season 3 of Supernatural and decided to stay for the night.

But it wasn't the same without Felicity there.

* * *

"Oliver?"

He grunted, throwing his arm over his face as he shifted.

"Oliver!"

He turned over, burying his face into the soft leather of the sofa, trying to ignore the irritating voice.

"OLIVER!"

He reacted instinctively. Grabbing the assaulting hand, his eyes flew open as he pulled the person down onto him, locking his arms around them.

His eyes met round, shocked, blue eyes.

_"Felicity?"_

It was the woman who had dominated his dreams – or nightmares, depending on the point of view – all night. He tried to clear his head, sleep still clinging to him.

It was then he realized she was flush against him.

And it was then when they both realized his body's reaction.

Later, he would blame it on the haziness of his mind. Later, he would blame it on the fact that she was soft and_ warm_ and all pressed up against his hard body. Later, he would blame it on the _unavoidable_ morning wood.

Felicity didn't dare move. She couldn't even look away, let alone try break out of his iron grip. But she felt him, pressing against her thigh. She resisted the urge to squirm and shove, because she knew it would not help matters.

Her body was screaming for her to press against him, and she resisted that urge even harder.

Her hands were pressed against the broad panels of his naked chest, and she curled her fingers, her painted nails scraping softly against his skin. The air was washed with their want, and she wanted him to lean forward and_ kiss_ her.

He let go of her, quickly scooting out from under her. Blinking, she scrambled up, her face beetroot red.

"I need the bathroom."

Felicity nodded, heading for the small kitchenette area, deciding that coffee was the best solution for them. When she knew he had disappeared from the main area, she let out a shaky breath. _Stupid, stupid, stupid_. What was she thinking?

When Oliver returned, she handed him a mug, and started talking.

"I'm sorry for waking you up – I just came over to run the names you gave me the other day, and wanted to get it done early just in case –"

"You have another _date_?"

Felicity stopped short, turning to face him from near her desk. He stood there, in string bottoms and nothing else, sipping the coffee she had made him, eyes guarded as he looked at her. Frowning, she tilted her head slightly. There was nothing playful about his tone, and if anything, the glint in his eyes signaled warning bells in her head.

What had got him in such a mood?

"No actually, I have a girl's night in planned for later, with my best friend."

That was probably the shortest sentence Felicity had ever said to him.

"So, wasn't the date a success last night?"

Something in his voice set her teeth on edge, and she straightened her shoulders unconsciously.

"It was _fine_. I was with two other friends, so it's hardly an actual _date_. Though I don't see how that affects anything," she said, confusing colouring her voice as she frowned. Oliver raised an eyebrow, and set the mug down on the counter.

_Fine._ That meant that it was likely that he would call her again. He wanted to punch something, and decided to head for the training area again. He wasn't going to think about her on a date with any guy. He wasn't going to think about what other connotations _'fine'_ could represent. He wasn't going to start snapping. In fact, he was going to ignore the green headed monster rising in his chest, demanding to know who this guy was so he could stick an arrow in his balls.

_"Good."_

"Good? Is that all you have to say after questioning me?" Felicity finally burst. He turned around, a fire evident in his eyes. She didn't know what was wrong with him, didn't know why they were arguing – but she was not letting it slide. There was something bothering him, and she wasn't going to let him treat her like his punch-bag. It _hurt_ that he was shutting her out instead of talking to her.

Weren't they friends, after all?

"I was just asking you about your evening, nothing other than that," he said indifferently, taking a step again. He heard her teeth grind. He actually heard it.

"You weren't _just_ asking. In fact, you were acting like a complete ass, Oliver Queen," she blurted out, throwing her hands up in the air, "And I don't know what has crawled up _there_ and died, but I am your _friend_, not your punching bag!"

He didn't know what possessed him. It was probably the sharp twist he felt in his gut at the word _friend_, but he couldn't care less. He was done with playing safe.

"I don't want you to just be my _friend_, Felicity! I want you to be _more_ that just my friend, and _that's_ my problem," his raised tone matched hers.

With that, he stalked to the door, and let himself out.

_"What?"_


	4. Kiss

**AN: I just wanted to put this up, because I do love this part too. And from the title, it's obvious what happens. After this update, I'll probably put the next part up in a few days as I haven't written it yet. If you want to check out my personal ramblings and Olicity posts, you can find me on tumblr ( .com) - I take requests for Olicity shots to publish on weekends now ;) Anyhoo, enjoy! **

**Also, thank you to everyone who has reviewed/favourited/followed this. You guys have left me speechless. I love you all. xo**

* * *

They avoided each other.

It had been three weeks._ Three _god forsaken weeks since Oliver had admitted to wanting more than friendship.

Felicity didn't know if she should squeal with glee or run for the mountains.

But she didn't have to make that decision. When she had returned to the Foundry the next morning, he hadn't been there. Or the day after that. Or the following week.

When she had asked Diggle, he had looked at her, eyebrow raised.

_"He's been handling some stuff with the club. He tends to stick his head down here at nights."_

It was all she needed to know he was avoiding her.

So she didn't seek him out. They corresponded through emails or texts when necessary, or Diggle. It was so professional; it was making her head spin. She couldn't stop thinking about him. There were times when her phone rang, and she'd run to it, half crazy with the notion that _maybe_ this time round, it was Oliver calling.

It never was.

She _missed_ him. She didn't realize just how much of a unit she had become with Oliver and Diggle, and she missed the dynamics of their team terribly. She missed Oliver leaning over her shoulder while she looked up something, she missed Diggle making jokes about Oliver's lack of humour, and she missed knowing _he_ was there, somewhere, anywhere, but just _there_.

She drew herself out of her thoughts, scolding herself mentally for clocking out at work. Deciding that coffee was necessary, she stood up, smoothing down her pencil skirt as she moved towards the sleek coffee maker in the IT office. She'd badgered the department to buy a new one months ago, fully equipped and top of the brand. Some of her co-workers were still thanking her.

She looked up, and her hands stilled.

There was Oliver, walking with his mother, his eyes focused on Moira Queen as she seemed to be discussing something with him.

Her heart ached for him, so suddenly and so viciously, that she felt her knees weaken. Gripping the edge of the counter, she tried to steady herself. She kept her head low, waiting for the machine to signal that her coffee was ready.

She nearly blanched when she heard Moira Queen's voice.

"I just need to speak with one of the IT engineers, and then we can head back up to my office. Oh, Felicity. Oliver, this is Felicity Smoak - the best of the best, as Walter used to say," Moira, unbeknown of what she had just caused, pulled Oliver closer to the wide-eyed blonde. The woman in charge was kind to the blonde, knowing that Walter favoured her for her skills.

But she had no idea that her son favoured the blonde in every kind of way.

They stared at each other, not knowing what to do. Moira had no idea that her son was in fact_ very_ familiar with the woman in question, but they weren't in a position to reveal that to her.

So Oliver put his hand forward, plastering a polite smile on his face.

"Lovely to meet you, Miss. Smoak," he said, and she reached forward too, placing her small hand into his rough, big ones.

It was stupid to deny the attraction. It was stupid to second guess it. In that moment, she realized just how much she had missed his touch. Something settled in them both, something that had been restless for the three long weeks they had endured.

"Likewise, Mr. Queen."

"It's Oliver. My father was Mr. Queen," he said, and déjà vu hit her. His eyes bored into hers as he saw the recognition on her face. Of course he'd remind her of the first time they had met. No one would ever say Oliver Queen played fair.

When Felicity let go of his hand and politely excused herself, she moved over to her desk, not looking back at him.

* * *

Oliver stepped into the Foundry late that night, tired from the day he had endured. He stripped out his suit blazer, haphazardly throwing it towards the desk as he moved over to the sofa. It had been a long time since he had pulled his weight concerning his family, but even then, he couldn't escape from his thoughts. He had spent time with Thea, letting her question him, trying to distract her from her mission in discovering the Hood's real identity. Though his sister was nowhere near figuring it out.

"Erm… Hi."

He spun around, one hand at the top button of his shirt as he looked at Felicity, standing by the corner of the desk that she normally sat at, hands twisted together in front of her as she watched him with nervous eyes.

"What are you doing here?" he didn't mean for it to sound so harsh, and nearly winced at the sound of his own tone. But she didn't react. Instead, she moved forward.

"We need to talk. We've been avoiding this for three weeks, and I think it's time we started acting like adults – not that we're_ not_ already, but this feels like one of those kindergarten situations when your best friend stops talking to you because you didn't want to go into the sand pit with them –"

"Felicity, _breathe_."

She broke off her rambling, and closed her eyes. Nodding, she took another bold step towards him.

"That's off topic, I know. But we can deal with this like the grown-ups we are. We don't need to be avoiding each other – it's completely _unnecessary_. You don't have to avoid the Foundry; I don't need to watch the clock all the time hoping you'd walk in. I mean, hoping you _wouldn't_," she rushed to correct herself, the heat rising in her cheeks.

Oliver smiled softly, watching her. She was so beautiful. He had missed seeing her blush.

He had missed everything about her.

"I've missed you."

Felicity stopped pacing, her eyes meeting his as she stood still. The words hung in the air between them, and she could see it in his eyes. Swallowing, she tried to find her voice again, but it wasn't happening. He decided enough was enough. She had come to him, so he would make the next move.

"I've missed your smile, your babbling, and the way your curls spill down your shoulders. I've missed seeing you behind that computer screen, and the way you curl up against me while watching Supernatural. I've missed a lot of things, Felicity," Oliver said quietly, taking small, measured steps towards her. She was speechless, for once.

He moved closer, until he was right in front of her. She didn't move, didn't step back – and he was glad. He was done fighting what was in him, and he was done letting her slip away.

"I've missed you scolding me, your sarcastic comments, and the way that wonderful mind of yours works," he said, lifting a hand to her hair, and letting his fingers brush through it, mussing the ponytail up. Hooking his finger into the band, he gently eased it out, letting her thick curls loose.

"I've missed seeing your hair messy, after you work like crazy for hours. I've missed you muttering under your breath. I've missed your coffees. I've even missed the way your eyes would follow me when my shirt came off," he teased, and that drew her out of the deep, seductive trance he had her under.

"Hey! I don't creep on you."

He chuckled, before wrapping his arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him.

It felt magnificent. Her breath hitched as her eyes grew wide, the playful mood gone as she realized that the intent in his eyes were clear. Her hand rested against his shoulder as he leaned forward.

"I've missed looking at you, and your pretty pink _lips_," he whispered, and she felt her knees go weak. His eyes were watching her lips as she tried to control her erratic breathing, but then he leaned forward again, closing the inch until their breaths mingled, until their noses touched.

Her eyes closed as he laid his lips on hers.

It was soft. Gentle. _Perfect_. The hand that rested on his shoulder curled up behind his neck as he let his hand slide down her waist and settle against her hip. She was wonderfully soft, fitting against the hard panels of him effortlessly. She sighed, melting into him. Never would she have ever thought she'd be kissing Oliver Queen. The man that had captured her heart so quickly, she didn't have a choice but to fall head first. He kissed her deeper, their tongues mating as he twisted his hand in her hair.

She bit his lower lip, and his control snapped.

The hand resting on her hip cupped her bottom, lifting her up. She gasped, instinctively wrapping her legs around his waist. Core to core, a bolt of forbidden desire ran through them.

He groaned, and moved towards the desk, their mouths warring with each other. Gone was the soft, slow kiss - the heat within them burning up, tipping them over the edge.

He set her down, his hands suddenly everywhere. Teeth nipped, lips fought, breaths fastened. She grabbed onto his hair as he rubbed his sex against hers, trying hard not to pass out from the pleasure of it. He broke the kiss and moved his lips to her neck; laying open mouthed kisses until he found her erratic pulse and bit down.

Her body went crazy for him.

His hands wandered down to her thighs, pushing up her pencil skirt as he kissed her neck. He wanted to touch her, drive her crazy. It wasn't enough – skin to skin would only satisfy him.

_"Oliver?"_

They broke apart, Felicity's eyes growing wide as she realized Diggle was back at the Foundry. Oliver reluctantly let her go as she pushed herself off the desk, smoothing her skirt down as she looked around for her hair band.

"Are you watching Supernatural again? 'Cause you need to stop this man – _oh_, Felicity," Diggle's eyebrows flew up as he saw that the blonde was also in the Foundry.

His lips curled as he realized they both looked _guilty_.

"I'm interrupting_ something_, aren't I?" he asked smugly, and Felicity, turning absolutely red, mumbled something about the bathroom and bolted for it.

"Well, well, well. Isn't this _cosy_?"

"Shut up, Diggle."


	5. Date

**AN: Okay so I managed to finish this part, and decided to just post it. I had fun writing it, though I was planning on doing it slightly different, but this just happened and... yeah. If Oliver seems ooc, I'm sorry about that - with Felicity, I think he'd just act a bit differently to how he normally is (considering the fact that he's crushing on her in these one-shots). If there's any mistakes or errors, please do let me know - I try to edit it over and over, but I'm pretty sure I miss stuff. Anyway, I'm revved on the fact that Arrow returns tonight, so let me just go squeal about that and let you guys read this! Loving you all so much. xo**

* * *

"Oh my God, Daenerys you absolute bad ass _babe_," Felicity spoke out loud as she watched Game of Thrones, her ice-cream carton resting between her knees. She was completely engrossed in the episode, having had no time to catch up with season 3 due to work, being Oliver's personal IT girl, family commitments, IT girl duties, even more work, _oh_ and did she mention the fact that she was cracking codes for Oliver like it was_ legal_?

She tried not to dwell on Oliver. Every time she remembered their encounter, the blush rose straight from her toes. She had gone to the Foundry to_ talk_ to him – _not_ kiss him senseless. It wasn't like her, and if anything was proof to go by, the fact that she could still feel his touch after two days was saying something.

Her dry spell was doing her no favours after that sip of glorious water.

"_Stop_," she muttered to herself, trying to concentrate on the show again. She wasn't going to waste precious brain cells over-thinking about a situation that was done and dusted. It was the first actual day since forever that she had all to herself, and she wasn't going to think. She was just going to fan-girl.

So she carried on watching the show, managing to block out her pesky thoughts about her boss.

"_What?_ How! I refuse to accept – oh, food!" she jumped up, putting the ice-cream carton down and making her way over to her door.

"Winter must finally be over – _Oliver?!"_ she screeched as she gaped at him, standing outside her door.

He sucked in a breath, her appearance throwing him off. There was never a time where Felicity wasn't neatly put together – even when training. But this was something new. There she stood, in a scruffy top that was probably three times her size, long, pale legs on view and thick, fluffy pink socks on her feet. He absently noted that her hair was plaited to the side.

Realizing that he was probably staring for too long, he snapped out of it.

"Hi," he managed to keep his voice steady, "Can I come in?"

Felicity blinked, before moving back a step. Her mind was screaming at her – obviously he would be outside her door when she was looking like she hadn't left her house for months in her oldest top and not even a touch of makeup.

"Sure. Is everything fine?"

"Yes, everything's fine. I just wanted to ask you something – what on earth are you watching?" he suddenly asked, the movement from the TV catching his eye.

Felicity turned around, a frown on her face.

"Oh my God! I _knew_ she wouldn't give one of her babies up like that! My Queen!" Felicity exclaimed as she watched the last scene unfold. Oliver tilted his head, trying to figure out what was going on.

"Daenerys will be the Queen of them all, ruling the seven kingdoms while looking flawless," Felicity sighed, her eyes still glued to the TV.

His chuckle broke her out of her trance.

"Well, I have no idea who she is, but from the look of her, she's deadly," he commented, and Felicity blushed. She was thoroughly embarrassed.

"It's one of my favourite shows at the moment. I'm a complete TV junkie; it pretty much comes with being a super awkward geek. You should watch GoT though, guys dig it too. I mean, there's lots of action, pretty girls, class A boobs on show and swords. Ignore that boob comment. Ignore that too," she flinched as she shut her eyes tightly.

"From what I've seen already, I'd rather stick to Supernatural right now. One at a time," Oliver replied, not mentioning her other comments.

"Before you know it, you'll be hooked, Queen," she said, poking a finger in his stomach. He laughed, grabbing her wrist and pulling her close. It got her complete attention – which was what he was hoping for.

"While I've got your attention off your shows, I want to ask you something. Would you like to go on a date with me, Felicity?"

_"Date?"_

"Yes. Tonight."

_"Tonight?!"_

* * *

Felicity stood in her bedroom, two hours before zero hour, worrying her lip as she stared into her wardrobe.

"Why do I not have anything to wear?"

Talking to herself was a common thing. Agreeing to go on a date with billionaire playboy turned vigilante was _not_. Agreeing to go on said date on the same day it was set on was definitely not a common thing at all. Trying hard not to hyperventilate, she delved into her wardrobe.

Her gold dress was out of question. She'd already worn that in front of him once. Her little black dress wasn't exactly the look she wanted to go for either. It was playing it too safe. The red dress she had brought on impulse from a sale was far too risky for her. Ready to scream, she pushed all the dresses to one side of the rack.

And found the winner.

* * *

When she heard the light tap on her door, she was just about ready. Slipping her feet into the black heels, she grabbed her clutch, before breathing in deeply.

_Here goes nothing. _

She pulled the door open, and had the immense pleasure of watching his eyes grow wide.

His breath caught.

He didn't know if it was the dress, or her hair, or the smile on her face. He briefly remembered her in the gold dress, but that was nothing compared to the weapon she had pulled out this time round. In that moment, he was glad that he had made the right decision to ask her out.

She smoothed a hand down the white slip-on dress, the fabric silky and thin. It was unbelievably sexy – the neck line swooping down to reveal creamy skin and the slightest cleavage. His gaze traveled down to her legs, bare from the mid-thigh.

He swallowed, wanting to get his hands on her again.

"You look beautiful," he said honestly, his piercing blue eyes back on her face. She couldn't meet his gaze properly, using her straightened hair as a curtain to hide her red cheeks.

"Thank you. I tried – I mean, you look really good. How do you manage to wear suits so well?" she blurted out, and he laughed.

"Thank you – I think. Ready to go?" he asked, holding a hand out for her. She nodded, and stepped forward, exposing him to her bare back to him when she turned to pull the door shut before placing her small hand in his. He didn't know who had designed the dress, but he was thoroughly thankful for it.

Even though he was sure she had worn it to kill him slowly.

* * *

When they arrived at the upscale Italian restaurant, Felicity was absolutely sure she was dreaming. She had only been there once before, and that was for her birthday two years ago. She knew that it was completely out of her price range – unless she saved up a few pay cheques – and couldn't help but fidget as they walked into the pretty little place.

They were seated the moment they walked in, a private booth with candles already lit. She tried not to ogle much, but couldn't seem to help it. Oliver gestured for her to take a seat first, and she slid into the plush curved sofa seat.

The waiter zeroed in the moment they were settled, and Felicity smiled when Oliver gestured to her.

"She loves red wine. The bottle of the best you have."

"I made good use of the bottle you gave me," Felicity commented after the waiter had left, "I finished it while watching Downtown Abbey and making a list of why you were probably the vigilante."

"A list – that does not surprise me at all," Oliver chuckled as she shrugged.

"Yes, lists are _amazing_. Seriously, they are underrated. They are super useful – but anyway, I made a list. Everything added up. It was either you was the vigilante, or the vigilante's sidekick. Though you wouldn't make a good sidekick – with all the testosterone and muscle you have going on, you just wouldn't be able to follow orders. No offence," she added as an after-thought.

"None taken. Have you always been so honest?"

"Uh-huh. I was born without a brain to mouth filter. My mother's pretty much the same – she's probably _worse_ than me, or maybe I just think that because she embarrasses me most of the time. My dad and brother think it's really funny though, and I think my brother feels very lucky he didn't get the gene," she waved it off, smiling. The wine arrived, and Oliver poured her a glass.

"So it's just you and your brother?"

Their conversation carried on for a few more hours, and Felicity realized that it had been a very long time since she had actually gone out with anyone, enjoyed a wonderful meal and actually talked about simple things. She watched Oliver's face, animated and relaxed, and smiled to herself.

It was a magnificent sight, seeing the Oliver that no-one else saw.

"I like this Oliver," she whispered, unintentionally. His eyes sobered, locking with hers.

"Sorry?"

"I meant – it's nothing. I like seeing you just be… you? You're either Oliver Queen, the billionaire brat or the vigilante. You don't let your guard down much to just allow your actually personality to show. I'm sorry," she rushed out when he didn't say anything, "It's me being silly. Forget it."

Oliver reached for her hand, stopping her from looking away.

"It's not silly. Don't disregard your thoughts like that. You're right, in a lot of ways. I don't have the luxury of just being me. I discovered many sides of me on that island. I witnessed many things too. It changes a person, right down to the core. But… I can't exactly be that person if I want to get through that List. You're the only person who – besides Diggle – sees the different sides and accept it."

It seemed that the only person capable of rendering her speechless was Oliver too.

Smiling, she squeezed his hand, knowing that sometimes, words weren't the answer.

They shared dessert, laughing and teasing each other with stories.

* * *

When Oliver walked her to her door, she felt the nerves creep up again. She wondered if she should invite him in or thank him for the night – because if she was honest with herself, and she always was, she wanted him to come inside.

But she wasn't bold as she was honest.

She turned to face him, playing with her clutch.

"Thank you for a lovely evening. It's been a long time since I've enjoyed myself," she said, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"It was my pleasure. Felicity," he began, his hand cupping her face. She looked up slightly, insecurities trying to push through, as if she was sixteen again and dreaming of dating that really annoying jock she thought was cute at the time.

But it was no dream, and Oliver was no jock. He leaned in, letting her anticipate his actions.

She was the one who sealed the kiss.

She let her hands roam up to his strong neck as she stood on her tip toes, kissing his lips in a slow urgency that left them both breathless. His hands held her close, his fingers tracing patterns on her bare back as their tongues mated. It was a sweet familiarity with Felicity, as if he was finally somewhere he could call home. Easing back, he let his forehead rest against hers as they tried to catch their breaths.

"You should go inside before I change my mind," he muttered, still tracing patterns on her back. She arched forward, reveling in his touch.

"You can come inside, if – if you want," she managed to get out, and he considered throwing caution away and following her in.

But he wasn't the Oliver he was five years ago. And Felicity wasn't anybody. She was so much more.

"Not yet._ Soon_," he said, before laying a soft kiss against the corner of her mouth and letting her go, "Go inside before I stop reminding myself why it's good to go slow."

She fumbled for her keys, and finally managed to pry the door open. Turning to face him again, she smiled, a different kind of confidence surrounding her.

"Good night, Oliver."

"Good night, Felicity."

And with that, she leaned forward, kissing his cheek, before closing the door.

_For the first time since leaving the island, Oliver slept soundly. _


	6. Sick

**AN: So, here's the next part. I got this requested on Tumblr, and thought why not, because I would actually like to see something like this on the show too. I tried (and immensely failed) to write some of this in Oliver's perspective, but I just feel more comfortable sticking to Felicity. Anyhoooo, I hope you guys like this! **

* * *

_Felicity felt like death._

It was a rare occurrence for her to get ill. In fact, the last time she had managed to catch the flu was near three years ago. Her immune system hardly let her down.

It was finally taking a break from protecting her.

She stalked into the Foundry, her eyes red and her nose blotchy as she headed straight for her desk.

"Oh no," she muttered, before a sneezing fit followed.

"I think that's the first time I witnessed someone sneeze twelve times in a row."

She turned around, the crumpled tissues still covering her nose as she realized she wasn't exactly alone. Wiping her nose, she sniffled as she rolled her eyes.

"That's nothing compared to what my co-workers had to put up with today. At one point, I thought my ovaries would fall out from all the hardcore sneezing taking place," she blurted, before realizing that it was Oliver she was talking to, and not her best friend, "I mean, not that it's possible. Or that you needed to know that. It just felt that way. Okay, you need to shut me up before I start talking about my -"

Oliver smiled, shaking his head as he took a step forward, tugged her into his arms and kissed her. Her hands snaked their way up his forearms as he nipped at her unpainted, bottom lip.

"You can't work like this," he said, causing her hands to still against his arms.

"What? I'm fine. I've just got the flu. Also, I'd like to point out that you kissed me, so you'll probably be catching the flu as well," she couldn't help but talk today, it seemed. Being ill stopped her from even acknowledging her thoughts before her mouth spilled them out.

"It's clearly taking its toll, Felicity."

She narrowed her eyes at him, ready to argue him to the ground. But before she could get a word out, she started sneezing again. This time, he rolled his eyes.

"Sit down on the sofa. Why did you even go to work in this state? You need to rest. I'll order some hot soup and get some painkillers for you. Or something along those lines?" he second-guessed himself. But Felicity didn't answer. She was looking up at him with an odd expression on her face, as if she was trying to figure something out.

_"Are you trying to look after me, Oliver?"_

Her voice was quiet, as if she didn't mean to say it out loud. He looked down at her, sitting on the sofa, a bundle of tissues in her hand, her face pale and her eyes rimmed with red.

Oddly enough, she was still beautiful in her own way.

"Yes, I am. Now, play nice and tell me if I'm on the right tracks. Soup, blanket, some painkillers and I'm guessing a DVD or two? Want some junk or a hot water bottle too?" he guided her to the sofa, making sure she plonked herself down before running a hand down her hair.

It seemed that Oliver couldn't help his actions when around Felicity.

"I don't mind the junk, as long as there's_ lots_ of chocolate. As Professor Lupin said, chocolate is the cure for Dementor attacks, and this certainly is one. I'll pick a DVD from the pile," she suggested, and he nodded, heading upstairs.

* * *

When he came back into the Foundry, she was curled up on the sofa, a blanket wrapped tightly around her and the remote in her hand.

"I've got the goods. Saddle up," he smiled, sitting next to her. He pulled out the painkillers and the water bottle from the paper bag, handing it to her as he dropped the plastic bag filled with junk between them.

"Soup's take out, because I draw the line at even trying to cook. I don't want to poison you," he added, and she laughed, utterly moved at his behaviour.

Here was the supposedly _terrifying_ vigilante; grinning at her while he held the plastic soup bowl in his hands.

"You're a teddy bear, Oliver Queen," she teased, and nearly laughed at the horrified expression on his face.

"_Teddy bear_? Did you just call me a teddy bear?" he asked, disbelief colouring his voice. She rolled her eyes, dropping the water bottle to the side and pulling the soup from his hands.

"Yes – don't even deny it! I mean, come on. You're the Hood, sitting here with your IT geek, tending to her while she's ill. That's not terrifying, that's just super _cute_. Plus, you're going to watch Harry Potter with me. Don't even try telling me you're not a teddy bear!"

"I'm pretty sure I can put the fear of God into you again, Felicity Smoak," he argued, yanking on the blanket she had cocooned around herself. She couldn't help but squeal, trying to hold the soup steady in her hand. He shook it out, before throwing it over both of them.

"Now, be good, or I'll tie you up."

"Will you gag me too to shut me up?"

The silence was suddenly overwhelming.

"That came out completely, utterly _wrong_. We are going to ignore the last few seconds. _Oh my God,"_ she muttered under her breath, turning her head to the side as she shook her head.

Trust her to blurt out something like that. She had to work on controlling her mouth – and there she did it again.

"I think it's time we start watching Harry Potter and – wait, which one is it?" he asked, drawing her out of her incoherent mumbling. The faint smile on his face didn't go by her.

"It's the fourth one, Goblet of Fire. The fifth one came out while you were on the island, learning how to shoot people with an arrow, so I thought we'd just go from this one. Wanna share the soup?"

They stayed under the blanket, his arm snaked around her waist as they shared the soup and junk.

* * *

He woke up to the sounds of whimpering.

Oliver didn't remember the last time he had moved so fast. Realizing that Felicity wasn't next to him, he jumped up, calling for her.

"Don't come in," he picked up on her quiet, rough voice. Moving over to where the bathroom was situated, he ignored her protests and pushed the door open.

There she was, on the floor, puking her guts out.

There were times when Oliver thought he had left everything on the island. There were times he couldn't connect, couldn't empathize; couldn't feel. There were times when he worried he would never know how to react to something that was natural.

_But there were times when he even surprised himself._

Moving over to her, he pulled her blonde locks back, holding the curly mass of hair at the nape of her neck as he reached for the sink a few steps away and got the water running. She sighed as her stomach gave her a break, and just closed her eyes as she felt the cool water droplets on her neck. She was beyond embarrassed – who would want Oliver Queen to witness them throw up?

_Not this geek._

"I hate being ill. Especially when the guy I have a major crush on has to witness me throwing up my small intestines too. Didn't I say not to come in? But no, you being all… _you_ just had to," she muttered, too tired to even bother getting up. Oliver moved over to grab one of the smaller towels, holding it under the water for a few seconds before handing it to her.

"The guy you're crushing on is standing right here, and it takes much more than being sick to put me off. Want me to carry you back to the sofa, or is the kidneys planning on coming up too?" he said sarcastically, annoyed at her comment. He knew women had some sort of qualm to a guy witnessing them being ill or _whatever_ the hell they thought made them weak – didn't mean that he wasn't going to help her.

Felicity looked up from her position, and mentally scolded herself.

"I'm sorry. Ignore me – I tend to say much more stupid things when ill. I just don't want you seeing me in such a state, because even I wouldn't want to see myself in this state," she tried to explain herself as she pushed up from the floor. Oliver immediately held out a hand, and she took it, steadying herself as she moved over to the sink, "I'll be out right away, let me just wash my hair and brush my teeth."

He nodded, and gave her the privacy she was asking for. When she returned, he pulled her down onto the sofa and covered them with the blanket.

"Whenever I was ill, my father used to tell me this one story."

_Felicity fell asleep to his low voice and soothing touches. _

* * *

**I also want to point out that these are just supposed to be little cute, funny one-shots of their interactions. It doesn't follow the show and while I do love writing dark, angst filled fics, I don't really want to do that for Olicity. I just wanted to get that out the way, in case anyone doesn't like the way I write it or something along those lines. *moonwalks away while blowing kisses***


	7. Laurel

**AN: Well. I basically ate my own words from the last update. Nothing fluffy or cute about this, it's pretty much an alternative scene in 1x20. I blame Lana Del Rey, my terrible mood and Laurel for this. I hope you guys like it, and that it isn't too crappy. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed this, favourited and followed it. You guys are being hugged to death right now. xoxo**

* * *

Sometimes, getting used to a routine was dangerous.

She didn't know _what_ to exactly call her and Oliver – it wasn't as if they were in an actual _official_ relationship, because neither had mentioned it. But there was something there. They went out on dates, they had movie nights in after he put 'the fear of God' into someone else on the list and he even shared stories with her that she was certain no one else knew of.

Becoming comfortable had made her naïve again.

She had pushed it to the back of her mind, conveniently forgetting about the insecurities that came with giving her heart to Oliver Queen. She had held his hand whenever the nightmares had come to him whenever they fell asleep on the coach; she had been his guidance on every single hit he had gone out on; she had foolishly thought that maybe, it was just her for once.

Then Diggle had walked out of the Foundry, not looking back.

Reality slapped her right across the face. For the first time in her life, Felicity wanted to physically hit something. How could she have been so blind? How did she allow herself to be so stupid?

So she looked up, and met his gaze. He was still standing there, his face void of any emotion.

But there was a storm in his eyes.

"Something to say, Felicity?" he asked, voice tight and cold. She felt the lump in her throat tighten, but she wasn't going to cry. Felicity hadn't survived high school for nothing – not only did she have a quick mind, but she also had a backbone.

_"Nothing you want to hear."_

Her words hit home. He clenched his fists, trying hard not to let go of his slipping control and just plunge his fist through the desk. Or one of the computer screens. That would rile her up, wouldn't it? Having one of her beloved screens broken beyond repair.

Turning away from her retreating back, he closed his eyes, the harsh reality hitting him. His partner had just walked out on him. Tally that up to another person leaving.

_At least he wasn't dead. _

"Is Laurel worth it?"

He twisted around sharply, bewilderment settling on his face as he stared at Felicity before him. She had put away the medical kit and stood beside her desk, arms folded as she watched him.

_"What?"_

She couldn't help but ask. She knew that the best solution to it all would be to keep quiet, then go see Diggle tomorrow, talk to him and sort this out. But something in her wasn't willing to let it go that easily.

She hated being taken for a fool.

"Is she worth it? I can't get my head around it – I understand you wanted to protect the kid and her too, but was it worth putting Diggle in danger like that? We are supposedly a _team_; you could have called him or something to put it off or _anything_, Oliver. What would you have done if Deadshot had _killed _him?" she couldn't stop her voice from cracking as she threw her hands up.

"You don't understand – that was my only chance before he left the country to stop -"

"Don't lie to me, Oliver. I may be naïve, but I am definitely not stupid. You're still in love with her."

He opened his mouth to deny it, but she only smiled sadly at him. He wanted to deny it, with everything he was – but something stopped him, something stuck deep within his heart that refused to let go. He couldn't deny something that was still there, no matter how much he wanted to give his heart to the beautiful woman in front of him.

He didn't have to anyway – she saw right through him.

"Felicity, don't. Let's not," he didn't want to see the tears welling up in her eyes.

"Why shouldn't we? There's never going to be a moment like this again. You're blinded by your love for her – so much that you risked the man who has stood by your side regardless of everything. He had your back when you thought he didn't, Oliver. He was there. Would you pick Laurel over me if_ I_ was in danger?" she didn't bother masking the betrayal and anger in her voice. It was too late for niceties; she was going to smack him in the face with reality, just like it had done to her. She wasn't going to laugh it off, or make a stupid comment to ease the tension surrounding them. Not when one of them had just walked out the door.

Her head was screaming at her to do the same. _Just grab your bag and leave. Leave all of it behind before_ _your heart is crushed into dust._ But she couldn't; she wouldn't without knowing.

"Would you still stand by her, no questions asked, if I was the one who had been in danger?"

"Felicity -"

"Answer me."

"I will protect you no matter what, Felicity. You know that."

"I'm sorry to tell you this, but I don't think I can believe that anymore."

He could have sworn time stopped. There had been many times when time had been meaningless – when he had wondered if it was moving at all. There had been days when he had forgotten the concept of time – it had been motionless in his mind. Days had blurred, weeks had merged, the years nonexistent. It had started ticking again when he had returned, reminding him of his purpose. His mission.

But in the moment, time had stopped again.

She shook her head, willing for the tears to disappear as she moved over to her bag. It was a lost war she was fighting – it was something that she had always known. What had happened to the Felicity who used to scold herself for ogling at her boss who was adamant on carrying around a washed out picture of Laurel Lance? What had happened to the Felicity who had kept her slight distance from him? What had happened to the Felicity that had never forgotten how complicated his life was?

It was her own fault that she had let her heart do as it pleased.

_"Are you leaving too?"_

She nearly blanched at his tone, so broken and defeated. She resisted the urge to turn around, not trusting herself at what she might see on his face if she did. She was going to listen to her head instead – after all, hadn't her mind got her through everything else she had ever faced?

Shoving her tablet into her bag, she reached for her jacket and finally turned around.

"We all need the time. The stakes are too high for all of us to be at each other's throats and forget what were fighting for. You need time to sort out whatever you're going through Oliver. And I can't do this anymore. I don't think I deserve to be second best to a memory."

Letting her words hang between them, she headed for the door, the silent tears staining her cheeks as she let herself cry. Was this what heartbreak felt like? Nothing had ever prepared her for the gut wrenching feeling, as if her heart was being torn into shreds. It hurt to breathe, to try and ease the pain.

No amounts of books, research or stories could have prepared her for the blinding pain.

_"Don't go."_

He didn't think she had heard him. Watching her edge away, towards the door, cause panic to rise within him. He never watched them leave. He never watched the moment they walked out of his life. But he couldn't turn away. He couldn't look away and pretend she wasn't walking out of his life. The words had left his mouth unconsciously. He didn't want her to leave.

She hesitated, her steps coming to a halt.

It would be too easy to stay and fall back into the oblivious routine. She knew that he felt something for her – it was always there, in his touch, in his kisses, in his smile. But she couldn't fathom the thought of living in another woman's shadow. Knowing that she was always there, lingering somewhere in the back of his mind, the corners of his heart, while he was standing by her side. She wasn't going to stay when it was perfectly clear that in Oliver's world, Laurel was slightly above everything he was standing for.

_So she walked out the Foundry, never looking back. _


	8. Thea

**AN: I honestly couldn't seem to figure out how to play this part after the 'Laurel' one, then I thought I might as well introduce Thea in early, because I do love her. I wish she had gotten more screen time during Season 1. There's no Olicity in this; I apologize a million and one times, but I hope you do like this, because there's Thea/Oliver interactions and Thea/Felicity ones. Also, it's fun. No angst. :D I'm working on the next part, and it's all purely Olicity. Everyone who has reviewed, favourited and followed - I love you all dearly. xo**

* * *

A girl was allowed to wallow and eat infinite amount of Ben and Jerry's when she was recovering from a semi break-up.

At least, Felicity told herself that as she went back to the kitchen for the 6th tub in the last four days.

She hadn't left her house in those days either. She didn't face the work waiting for her, instead taking a couple days sick leave. She ignored all the calls and text from Oliver, had spoken to Diggle twice and the only person she allowed access was her best friend.

She viciously hoped that Oliver wasn't in a better state than she was.

Grabbing the spoon off the coffee table, she settled back into her couch, trying hard to will the tears away that were welling up in her eyes again. She was done crying and feeling pathetic – you'd think a girl could catch a break from the tears when her eyes were already looking like Pigmy Puffs.

So she delved herself back into her ice cream and re-runs of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

* * *

Oliver was at breaking point.

He had been very close to it many times – in fact, he had crossed the line on the island multiple times. The insanity had been welcomed then, had pushed him to brinks and edges that had made him the person he was.

But this time round, the slippery control wasn't welcomed.

He was alone again, _all alone_, facing the demons of the past, present and future by himself. How had he missed the moment when he had become dependent on his team members?

He hadn't had a family in so long that he hadn't realized he had unconsciously made one.

Four days. It had been four days since the two of them had walked out. A dangerous amount of time for a man to be left alone with his guilt-ridden thoughts.

Guilt had never been involved when on the island. Every action, followed by every consequence, was to survive. To get out and get back to do what he was supposed to.

He hadn't just failed Diggle and Felicity – he had failed his mission too.

Putting Laurel ahead of his promises hadn't only been a stupid move; it had been a dangerous one.

Rubbing a hand over his face, he stared blankly at the ceiling, still not quite used to the familiarity of his room. Since his return, he had hardly stayed there anyway; many nights were spent at the Foundry, on the sofa.

Oddly enough, the hide out had also become a home.

"Hey Ollie, do you want to come – are you _seriously_ still in bed?!" Thea asked, astonished. Oliver sighed, knowing that he was in for a lecture.

"Yes. Is there a problem?" he retorted back, slowly sitting up to see her standing by the door frame, arms crossed with a stern look on her face.

"Yes, there is. This is clearly post-break up wallowing. It's obvious – you haven't even _shaved_."

"I thought stubble suited me better?"

_"Oliver."_

"It's nothing to do with a break-up, Thea," he sobered up, rolling his eyes. Patting the bed, he motioned for her to come over, "I'm not in or out of a relationship, despite what you think. I'm just resting from all my night-time duties."

Thea tilted her head, taking a good, measured look at her brother. It could be a valid excuse, if she hadn't already noticed the subtle differences in him.

"That's not the only reason. I _know_ these things, Ollie," she insisted as he tried to interrupt her again, "And while you may not be noticing the differences, I have. Whoever she is, she was bringing you back. Do you know how _hard_ it is to have you here, physically, but realize that my Ollie is not in there? That had been changing – and I know for a fact it isn't because you and Diggle are in a bromance or Laurel. I know the signs or Laurel, and this _definitely_ isn't her work."

The surprise was evident on his face, and Thea knew she had it spot on.

"I'm not exactly stupid, Ollie. I _get_ this kinda stuff," she mocked him, and he scoffed, gently pulling on her messy locks. There were many things he wasn't looking at while adamant on his mission.

So he decided to be as honest as he could. Because other than Felicity, who else could he talk to?

"You've become very wise, haven't you? I'm not and I wasn't in a relationship. But you are right – there is someone. Gonna give you another 'spot-on' and tell you that I was the one who messed it all up."

"_Men_," she grumbled.

"We're not getting into that one. All in all, she's right about everything she said. She walked out the door," he explained, the irony of the statement not lost on him. But the heavy weight that had settled on his chest eased slightly, grateful that he wasn't carrying the burden all by himself. He had forgotten what it was like to share his thoughts, problems, issues with someone. And in that moment, he felt a little more human. Little bit more like the Oliver he was when with Felicity.

"Didn't it occur to you that maybe she wants you to go after her? Or are you still indecisive about how you feel for Laurel?"

_Another spot-on for Thea_, he thought.

"You've really been practicing this, haven't you?" he smiled sadly, looking away, "Laurel, as much as you and mom, was the reason I wanted to come back home. I love her, in my own foolish, selfish way. I can't seem to let go of her."

"Or maybe it's her memory, her illusion you're in love with?"

She let it linger between them, as he seemed to be far, far away.

"I don't know anymore. That's why I have to figure this out."

"I'm rooting for her, Ollie," she said finally, kissing his cheek as she slipped off the bed, heading for the door again.

"Wait – who exactly are you rooting for?"

* * *

Felicity yelped as she snapped out of her nap, dazed and confused. Shaking her head, she tried to focus, realizing that she must of fell asleep during her failed marathon.

The ice cream was half melted in the carton in her lap, her stomach pretty much frozen, and her glasses askew on her face.

She groaned, more than upset about the ice cream she had let go to waste.

"Is _anyone_ planning to answer this door or am I going to have to try _breaking_ it in?"

Scrambling up, Felicity frowned as she tried to gather her bearings.

"I don't know that voice – definitely don't know that voice."

Putting the ice cream down, she pushed her hair back and pinned it into a bun with a clip as she moved over to the door.

She hissed when she tripped over her forgotten heels that were still on the floor.

"I did say I will break it -"

Felicity yanked the door open to come face to face with no other than Thea Queen.

"And I thought Oliver looked a state. You look like you went five rounds straight during Black Friday."

"I – Miss. Queen, what – I'm sorry, but you must be at the wrong place," Felicity stammered, pretty sure she must be having a horrible nightmare.

"Jesus, I am definitely not Miss Queen. Just Thea. You are Felicity Smoak, right? Queens Consolidate, IT Department? Oliver's secret friend?"

At a loss, Felicity just nodded while she gaped. The younger girl beamed, walking right past the blonde and into the apartment.

_Just keep calm_, Felicity screamed at herself internally, _she's probably here for a favour_.

Thea turned around, examining her surroundings. The living room was tidy, with the exception of the couch being turned into a bed – and probably the core of her wallowing. Nice, warm colours – lots of DVD's, books and from what she could see, lots of tech equipment.

The woman in question was beautiful – definitely not the kind of beautiful Oliver normally went for, because hello, Laurel – even with slightly puffy eyes and no make-up. Not to mention the Captain America top and worn out leggings made her look very much like every nerd's wet dream.

"Can I get you anything? A drink?" Felicity asked, remembering her manners.

"Actually, I wouldn't mind some soda. By the way – got anymore ice cream? Cause I seriously need some now," Thea asked, smiling sheepishly. Felicity cracked a smile, nodding as she rushed over to the kitchen.

Once she was in the privacy of her kitchen, she leaned against the sink, trying to gather her thoughts together. Thea Queen was in her living room, and she seemed very aware of her supposed friendship with Oliver. Thea Queen was probably looking around her little living room, turning her nose up at the mess that she had been living in for the last four days.

"You can handle this, Felicity. She's just a _teenager_. She asked for ice cream. She's not going to murder you or get you fired," she muttered to herself, breathing in deeply. Moving over to her freezer, she took out the cookie dough Ben and Jerry's and two spoons.

She was pretty sure she would need some ice cream too.

Grabbing two cans of soda, she headed back, smiling nervously as she looked at the brunette seated on her couch, looking through one of her discarded books.

"Are you a fan of Game of Thrones? I absolutely love the series, but I haven't read the books – way too many pages for my mind to even think about."

Setting down the giant tub of ice cream and the sodas, Felicity was immediately drawn into her element.

"Yeah – I am a complete dork and love reading. I've read those far too many times – though the show is my obsession. I have marathons of the series every other week," she laughed, handing Thea a spoon too.

"I do better with movies. It's the same with every single Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings and Marvel movies. I don't have the capability to actually sit down and read. Are you wallowing too because of this thing going on with Ollie?"

"I – _excuse me_?" Felicity squeaked out, eyes growing wide.

"He's been in his room, for the last four days, staring at the ceiling with the most horrible expression on his face. I'm assuming you're the woman who has been preoccupying his mind."

All sorts of questions were running through Felicity's mind – and it seemed that Thea guessed as much.

"I lectured him, before doing some digging. Us Queen's are very stubborn when we want to be."

"Yeah, tell me about it."

Thea laughed heartily, scooping ice cream into her spoon before plopping it into her mouth.

"He's hurting, pretty bad. I haven't seen him in such a state since he came back. When he first came home… he was distant, different, closed in. This is not the same though; it's nowhere near that Oliver. You've been the reason why he's changed, Felicity – you don't mind if I call you Felicity, right? I'm not like overstepping any invisible line?" Thea asked, and Felicity shook her head.

"Felicity is fine. It's perfect. No one calls me Ms. Smoak. That's weird."

"I know right? Exactly how I feel about being called Miss. Queen. Yuck – anyway, off topic. Oliver needs you. He needs you more than he thinks he needs the memory of Laurel he's trying hard to keep hold of."

In the back of her mind, Felicity absently acknowledged the fact that the Queens had a way of rendering her speechless at times. Not knowing how to reply to the girl in front of her, she shook her head gently, leaning forward to dig into the ice cream herself.

"It's probably something you don't need to hear right now. But it's true – he loved her a lot at one point, though he managed to screw that up perfectly. He's holding onto the Laurel he knew near six years ago, because he thinks that she still anchors him to home."

"Miss. Queen -"

"Thea."

"Thea, I – I can't pursue a relationship with your brother for many reasons. Technically, he is my boss, and above that, he's a complex person. Not that I'm not smart enough to figure it all out. But… he still belongs to the woman he is in love with," Felicity explained, her voice tired all over again. It was like a constant, vicious circle of second guessing herself, her decisions; her feelings. She wanted nothing more than to punch Oliver in his handsome, sinful face and then kiss it better.

"It's harder for you than it is for him. But you're the woman who has changed him now. The Ollie that loved Laurel is not the Oliver he has become now. As his sister, I cannot tell you how much I appreciate you right now. But above that, as a woman – girl, whatever you want to label me – I know that he deserves happiness. He can find that happiness with you. That's all I really wanted to say. You're his way to the emotions that he's closed off, and I don't want him to lose you. He's my brother; he means the _absolute_ world to me. If he was to come over, wouldn't you listen to him?"

"Please don't tell me he's outside right now," Felicity exclaimed, horrified. Thea couldn't help but laugh as she tried to backtrack.

"No! No, he isn't. He's at home, thinking himself into grey hairs most likely. I do like you, Felicity Smoak. You're _definitel_y a girl to cry over," the young girl laughed, drinking deeply from her soda.

"I never knew such a thing could be a compliment. Not that I'm not grateful – thank you. This is us taking the time we need to figure out everything that's going on. And if he was to turn up outside my door, I doubt I could keep him out – he has this annoyingly sneaky way of getting inside. At least you just barged straight in. Sorry. I am a complete blabbermouth," Felicity decided to just forget using her limited filter, "Would you like to stay and watch Buffy? I have more ice cream too."

"Count me in. Trying to find out your identity certainly entitles me to good food and TV. Also – if Ollie doesn't find his way to you, could you at least promise me that you'll try finding a way through to him?"

Felicity swallowed as she looked Thea straight in the eye.

"I'll try. I'm hoping he finds his way though, because crawling back after I walked out isn't really going to do much for my reputation."

Thea snorted as she shook her head, settling back on the couch.

_It turned out that Felicity was able to relax around one of the Queens after all. _


	9. Sorry

**AN: I didn't think I'd write this so quickly, but Bank Holiday Monday was good to me. I do like this part (though I'm worried you guys might not) because I think Oliver would definitely be the one to come to her. And explain himself quite thoroughly, because he owes it to her. Anyway, that's beside the point - I hope you guys enjoy this! (Also, I'm on tumblr too: the-msft-of-fandoms) xo**

* * *

Felicity returned to work on Monday, deciding that she couldn't hide out forever in her apartment.

Not to mention she missed her computers more than anything.

Walking briskly to her office, she fired up the system, getting ready to start on her workload. Missing a whole week of work, not to mention staying in all weekend to continue her Buffy marathon, meant that she had an unbelievable amount to get through.

She wasn't complaining though; nothing made her happier than pesky, little errors.

Something under her keyboard caught her eye, and frowning, she pulled the small envelope out. Not knowing what to expect, she took the card out – and let out a small chuckle when she realized it was from Thea.

_'Before the computers swallow you up, I'd like to remind you I will be over to continue our Buffy bonding. Expect lotsa Chinese tonight, Blondicity. T, xo'_

Rolling her eyes at the terrible nickname, she put the card back down, entering her pass-code to access her system. It was funny how all of a sudden, she was very well acquainted with both the younger Queens – she would have laughed at anyone who would've suggested the unexpected friendships she'd developed. Though to be fair, she probably would of choked on her own breath too if someone had told her Oliver Queen was to come back with an alter-ego and sweep her off her feet. Shaking her head, she pushed her thoughts to the back of her mind.

Settling down, she focused on her computers only.

* * *

Oliver walked down the stairs, swinging his leather jacket on as he tried to remember where the keys to his bike were.

He had finally realized where he truly stood.

"Thea, you know what we discussed. Didn't we agree that you would at least _try_ to study for your finals?"

Oliver turned around, watching his mother storming up behind his sister, who rolled her eyes as she hitched her Celine bag onto her shoulder.

"I'm going over to a friend's house mom; I'm not going to pump myself up in drugs. Don't worry so much," Thea retorted, knowing exactly where her mom thought she was going.

"Oliver, talk some sense into your sister," Moira turned to her son, clearly not amused.

Oliver looked over at Thea, who scoffed and shrugged.

"I've already ordered the food, my ride is outside and I'm pretty sure Felicity is the best influence I can have around me right now. So, I'm going. Not even Ollie can stop me."

"I'm not stopping you, just come – wait, _Felicity_? You have a friend called Felicity?"

Thea, with a smug smile on her face, winked at him. Oh, she had him good. He suddenly looked as if he'd been sucker punched straight in the stomach.

"Yep," she popped the p, moving to the door, "In fact, you know her too. Felicity Smoak, IT whizz that works at QC. Now, I'm leaving before my cab drives off without me. See you both later!"

She left both her mother and brother flabbergasted in the foyer.

* * *

It was near midnight when Thea had left, already promising another night in later on in the week. Felicity was still pleasantly surprised by how different Thea actually was to the image she had carved of the young girl in her mind. It was easy to forget that she was one of the blue-blooded of Starling City. The girl was a bundle of energy, words and innuendos.

She wasn't much different to her, if she was honest.

Stretching, she put all the empty food cartons into a bin bag, tidying up as she moved around the room. It wasn't much of a mess, mostly limited to the coffee table and the floor, but she was anxious to get into bed and sleep for seven hours straight. Buffy marathons followed by lots of boy talks wasn't how she spent most of her evenings, but she had to admit, Thea was exactly the right dosage of what she needed right now.

Talking about Oliver to his sister should've been weird, but it was weirdly enlightening.

Though when Thea had mentioned Roy and his persistent mission of finding out the vigilante's identity, she had nearly faltered. She wished she could call Oliver and tell him about her discoveries, but it wasn't as if they were even on talking terms. It looked like they wouldn't be on any sort of terms for a long time – a week and he had even given up on calling her.

She stopped moving, putting the bag down as she slowly turned around.

There he stood, in front of the window, watching her.

Her breath hitched; her heart stumbled.

They watched each other, neither moving nor speaking, both unwilling to break the sudden spell.

She _ached_ for him. It was like an arrow to the heart, seeing him standing there, right there, watching her as if he was trying to solve something extremely complicated. Her body nearly betrayed her, wanting to run up to him and pull him into an embrace.

But she couldn't – she would stand her ground.

"I didn't know you were friends with Thea."

It was the only thing that was sensible to say. He couldn't think straight, let alone talk sense in that moment. He hadn't realized just how much he had come to rely on Felicity. How much he had appreciated not only her mind, but her touches, her smile, her kisses. There she stood, in an over-sized tank with sweats, hair wild, lips unpainted – yet she was remarkably beautiful.

"I – she was adamant on being friends. _Not_ that I didn't want to be friends with your sister," she rushed out, realizing how rude she must be sounding, "She's awesome. But we just recently met – when she came over a week or so ago. I don't exactly remember the details. You're crowding my mind right now. I mean, I can't think right now. Or, like, ever."

She wanted to just smack herself upside the head. What was it about Oliver and awkward situations that made her excessively embarrassing?

"She could use a good friend; she's not that great at picking them normally. I went to see Diggle before I came here," he didn't know any other way of telling her what he wanted to.

"_Oh_ – that's good. Bromance back on and everything?" she teased, wringing her hands into her tank top. The fact that she was nervous too made him feel slightly better. He was surprised that she hadn't asked him to leave yet.

"Yeah, I guess so. Truth is; I need him. I need you both, because on my own, I can't save this city. Not anymore," he stepped towards her, cautiously.

"Before you say anything, I want you to just listen. I know I hardly ever say much – I don't exactly know how to interact or let people in. Diggle and you, you both took me by surprise. I didn't think I'd have anyone so closely involved in this clusterfuck of a situation. But you stayed. Not many people would stay – and you've kept me grounded. I've gotten so used to you, Felicity, that this last week has been hell."

He took another step forward.

"I love Laurel -"

_"Oliver, don't."_

"I do. I love her. But I realized, both you and Thea were right. I love the memory that I've held onto. Her photo was the only thing I had left on that island from home. It kept me rooted; it pushed me to survive. And I did – I came back, still foolish enough to believe that maybe, some things hadn't changed."

He took another step, close enough to see the slight circles under her eyes.

"Just like I'm not the same, neither is Laurel. No one is. I came back and turned a blind eye to the changes. Then you waltzed in and suddenly, everything was even more of a mess in my mind. I care for you more than you can imagine – hell, when you went on that date, I don't think I've ever felt so angry and jealous in my life. It took me long enough to figure out, but I did. You are the future, Felicity."

He took that final step, face to face with her.

"You accept me for who I am. You stand by my side knowing exactly what I'm doing, exactly where I'm heading. You're not only my partner, but my equal. Yes, I love Laurel – but not in the sense I thought I did. I'm not _in_ love with her. She doesn't make my heart beat as fast as you do," he said, pulling her hand to his chest and resting it against his heart, "She doesn't look at me the way you do. She doesn't guide me in the right direction like you have been doing. She doesn't _feel_ right, not in the way _you_ do."

He wrapped an arm around her waist, and pulled her in close. No, no one would ever feel quite as right as Felicity did against him. No one would smile at him as perfectly as Felicity did.

She was the perfect future to hold onto.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have put her before Diggle, you, or what I'm here to do. I'm not exactly the easiest person to deal with – there's a lot that needs work on."

"I like you just fine like this, Oliver Queen. Though I have to say, I like this whole grovelling business, because it gets you talking," she shrugged when he raised an eyebrow at her.

"You do enough speaking for both of us, Ms. Smoak."

"That's because you make me nervous and comfortable at the same time, and my brain automatically spews out whatever it wants to. Plus, if I didn't babble as much as I did, I probably won't be very good at what I do. Talking out loud helps me solve whatever I have to – and that's something that's useful for you -"

He shut her up by pulling her up on her toes and kissing her.

It wasn't like their kisses before. He kissed her with a message behind his lips.

He was finally where he belonged.

Hands winding up into his hair, she anchored herself to him, afraid that if she didn't, her knees would give away. They held onto each other, lips fitted perfectly, heart against heart, beating as one.

No one had quite apologized to Felicity in such a way.

_But then again, she hadn't quite loved anyone like she loved Oliver. _


	10. Memories

**AN: Okay, this was supposed to be up on Friday. But then real life decided it needed attention. ANYWAY. Here it is. WARNING; SMUTTTT. This is THAT chapter, so if you don't like smut - don't read. Don't say I didn't warn you. But if you like smut - I hope you like this. Thanks to everyone who has been reviewing, favouriting, following - they are the fuel for quicker updates. xo**

* * *

When she left work the next day, she headed straight for the Foundry, excessively happy that she was finally returning to their little lair.

She would never admit it to Oliver or Diggle, but she had missed their hideout the most.

Walking around the club and down the stairs, she was greeted with familiarity.

There was Diggle, sat at _her_ desk, typing away furiously at the keyboard with eyes narrowed. Smiling, she watched him roll his shoulders, as if he was getting ready to fight the computer.

She desperately hoped he wouldn't.

Turning slightly, she finally laid her eyes on Oliver.

She wasn't surprised to see him training, concentrating on the three dummies in front of him as he expertly took them down. His movements, even when survival mode was triggered, whispered grace and ease.

Though she was slightly surprised that he actually had a shirt on.

"Oh, hey Felicity," Diggle finally realized that she was present, and she tore her eyes away from Oliver, smiling.

"I don't remember giving my desk to you, Digg," she commented, moving over to put her bag down and shrug out of her coat. He raised an eyebrow at her, clearly amused.

"Doesn't have your name on it, does it? Welcome back."

"Thanks. Nice to see you back too," she rested a hand on his shoulder, telling him exactly what she wanted to through that one touch. He patted her hand, before swinging round and getting up.

"Well, now that Felicity's here, I'm gonna get going. Gotta pick up Carly from work," he explained, grabbing his jacket.

"Say hi to her!" Felicity called out behind him, settling down at her desk. She was nervous, though for the life of her she couldn't figure out why. It wasn't as if she had never been alone with Oliver. Plus, he was training. Not to mention she had lots of re-organizing to do too.

"Too bad his shirt is on," she muttered under her breath as she started to clear the system out.

"Did you say something?"

Her head snapped up, the slight blush creeping into her cheeks.

"Uh, no. _No_. I didn't. I was talking to myself – I do that a lot, you know. Just ignore me," she stammered out, looking back at the screen. Sometimes, she forgot just how good his senses were.

Thankfully, he didn't say anything else. She focused on the task at hand, wiping out any tracks the two had left while she had been away and what have you not. They did their respective tasks silently, settling into their familiar routine very quickly.

"Wanna train?"

Her fingers faltered over the keyboards as she looked up, noticing that he was standing behind the screens and looking at her. Pushing her glasses up her nose, she blinked rapidly, trying to clear her mind.

"Do I need to train? What for?" she asked bluntly.

"You haven't been here for a week. Unless you've been training at home with Thea while eating all that _junk_, then you can't escape. C'mon. It won't take long," he reasoned with her, smiling.

"I would like to point out that you just called me and your own sister fat," she swung round and reluctantly got out of her seat, "And that's what you always say. I spend majority of the time on the floor anyway, so do we have to do this?"

"Yes, we do. You're not that bad. Now, no more excuses – go get changed."

Knowing he wouldn't budge, she sighed, moving towards the set of drawers where they had spare clothes and other little necessities.

"Also – I like having you on the floor most of the time. Just so you know."

* * *

She stepped up to the training course, braiding her hair quickly as she did so. She often forgot how tight her ponytail was, and it was the most convenient way to keep her hair out of her face without tying it up again.

Oliver didn't think he'd ever get used to just how beautiful she was. She didn't even try; it was the simplicity in her hair, her face, and her clothes that made her so appealing. Remembering the last time she had her hair braided, he was tempted to just reach out and pull the band out.

"Start stretching, then we'll take it from there," he told her, stripping out of his thin top. She groaned, actually groaned out loud.

"Yeah because you topless really isn't going to help this dry spell."

Oliver's eyes grew wide as he looked down at her.

She desperately wished for the ground to swallow her up in that moment.

"Ignore me. Please, just ignore me. Block out my voice or something. 'Cause that _really_ wasn't meant to come out of my mouth," she rushed out, her face growing red.

"Let's – stretch. That's the safest option."

So she stretched alongside him, mentally scolding herself. Trust her to mention her 'dry spell'. She was absolutely sure that wasn't in any 'How to Seduce a Billionaire Vigilante' guide.

Her eyes couldn't help but rake over the taunt muscle, tempting her to reach out and touch. He'd be warm, so _gloriously_ warm under her hands. And his hands would be rough against her skin, just the way she wanted them to be.

Swallowing hard, she tried to ignore the thundering of her heart at the thoughts.

"Let's get started."

Training got his hands on her, alright. Just not in the way she had envisioned.

No one would consider getting floored sexual.

She let out a whimper when she ended up on the floor for the seventh time, with Oliver looming over her.

"I'm beginning to wonder if you like staying on the floor," he commented, and she slapped his shoulder.

"It feels like my back is broken. You have a disgustingly big advantage over me, considering the fact that you're about ten times my body weight. Not that I'm complaining about you being on top because – how did you get this scar?" she abruptly asked, her hand gently tracing the length of the scar on his peck. For a moment, she forgot about her own promise to not question him about his time on the island. But, true to her nature, she couldn't always keep her thoughts in her mind. His body immediately tensed, and she watched in fascination as the emotions in his eyes faded away, one by one. The easy air around them changed as blank eyes stared down at her, and she very nearly so gulped.

She realized she was looking at the Hood.

"It's one of many. I don't remember them all," his voice was cool and detached as he made a move to roll off of her.

She instinctively held on, not willing to lose his warmth. Not willing to lose the moment.

"Don't shut me out, Oliver. It's only you and me. Remember how you told me that I can trust you?"

He nodded stiffly, jaw tense and locked. Her heart yearned to take away the pain that seemed to surround him like a cloak; and she was finally brave enough to not let him escape.

"You can trust me too. It works both ways."

She placed her hand right over his heart, felt the slight skip. He was a fascinating man – one so complex that no matter how many layers you peeled back, there would always be more. But she was willing to ease through them all – because she wanted him to be hers.

He couldn't think through rationally. How could he let her in on the darkness that he was adamant on keeping her safe from? How could he ever look into her eyes if he told her too much?

He didn't want to see pity in her eyes.

But it was only one story. Her hands had traced one of the earliest memories; one of the easier ones.

"It's a knife wound. Jagged edge. They cut deep enough for me to scream, but not deep enough for a quick death. It was a way of sending across a message," he told her numbly, "It was one of the earlier wounds. They got easier to handle as time went by."

She stared up at him, but his eyes were in a land she suddenly didn't want to know about. Her hand traced the scar again, marred yet still oddly perfect against him. He wore his battle wounds so easily, so honestly, without any cover ups, that she naively forgot how bad they probably must have been.

Leaning up, she pressed gentle, soothing kisses on the scar.

Oliver sucked in a breath, the vicious images scattering away from his mind as he felt her soft touches and comforting kisses. No one had ever been as kind as Felicity, as selfless as her. His heart did a lazy turn as her breath feathered against his skin, over the marred flesh that was second skin to him. Her lips pressed small kisses against his neck as she eased him back and flipped their positions, bracing her hands on the cold tarmac ground.

"You're unbelievably handsome, Oliver Queen," she told him, eyes raking over his face and down his body.

"You're also the bravest man I know," she leaned forward, nose to nose with him.

_"Let me show you."_

He didn't have time to collect his thoughts together before she laid her lips on his.

_She_ didn't know where the confidence was coming from. Felicity Smoak was never comfortable in her own skin; never comfortable with her own thoughts. She was never the one who ever made a move, sometimes too scared to welcome change.

But she wasn't the Felicity Smoak everyone was accustomed to. No, she was no longer that boring girl. She was so much more.

His hands came up behind her, tracing up her sides, moving over the curves of her hips, the dip in her back, her small waist. She moaned against his mouth when he hoisted the flimsy tank top up and put his rough hands on her rosy skin.

Skin to skin was so much better.

How long had she been imagining this moment for? How long had she been pining away for a man who had seemed so out of her reach?

"_Felicity,"_ he breathed her name out as she broke away from the kiss.

_She had waited long enough._

He pulled the tank over her head, throwing it to the side, before pulling the band out of the braid. He wanted her, so viciously and desperately. Had anyone so easily accepted him?

_Never._

She shook her hair back, the now wild curls spilling over her shoulders, framing her face. He reached forward and fisted a hand in her hair, pulling her back down to him.

The kiss that followed was brutal and full of need.

Her nails dragged down his chest as he let his other hand roam over the exposed skin, already memorizing the beautiful lines of her body. Nothing was familiar about her; she was refreshingly different, completely_ new_.

He bit her bottom lip, dragging a muffled groan out of her as she pressed her hot core against him, her hips grinding down and creating a glorious friction between them. He nearly lost all control, ready to rip away the offensive clothing and take her straight there and then.

She could feel his erection through the thin leggings that covered her, the aching need between her thighs screaming for release. She gasped for air as she pulled away from the kiss and he set his teeth on her neck, sucking and biting as he found the tender spot.

Her body arched as she cried out.

He was undoing her, inch by inch – her entire being chanted his name, over and over. How had she ever lived without those lips on her skin before?

"_Let me_," she whimpered, trying to gain her control again. This wasn't about her – no, this was about him. She was going to show him exactly what she thought, what she wanted and needed from him.

Linking her fingers with his, she brought his hands above his head, holding him prisoner on the ground. He could easily break out of the grip, but he didn't. He couldn't. He _wouldn't_.

She laid open mouth kisses down his neck, his chest, over every single scar that covered his upper body.

"You're absolutely perfect to me, Oliver," she told him, "every single scar, every single wound, they make you the man you are."

His fingers squeezed hers tightly as he battled with the onslaught of emotions laced with lust.

She let go of his hands, moving lower, lower, unbelievably _lower _until her fingers were at the elastic of his bottoms. Her eyes met his, before she slowly eased them down.

He hissed when he felt her small hands tracing his rigid shaft through his boxers.

_"Felicity."_

She wanted him to say her name like that for the rest of her life. She wanted him desperate for her every time he set his eyes upon her. She wanted this for an eternity.

Yanking down his boxers, she freed him from the restraint.

Then leaned forward and licked all the way up.

Oliver's head shot up as he gasped. He didn't know what to do, didn't know how to get his brain working again. Common sense left him as his hands fisted at his sides, his knuckles white. She used her tongue, and used it well – up and down, down and up, tracing patterns, swirling around the tip of him –

Then her lips closed around him, and he closed his eyes, letting his head fall back.

Her mouth was suddenly the deadliest weapon she possessed.

She took him in, all of him, in that instance and she felt his body shake. She eased up a little, letting her hands trail up his legs and to his abdomen. Her brightly painted fingernails bit into his skin, the sensation of both her mouth and hands killing him. Surely this was surreal, he thought wildly as he mouth worked him slowly, _torturously_. She let go of him for a moment, laying open mouthed kisses along his manhood while she moved her hands down to his length again. He wasn't sure of what to anticipate next, not sure if she was going to strike again or –

_"Fuck."_

Her teeth scraped lightly when she took him back into her mouth again, and Oliver's hands fisted in her hair, the blonde locks a disarray as her head moved up and down, the sight of it making his blood boil with need. He was so close to the edge, holding on by a thread, and if she didn't stop –

He growled as she moved back, and before she could acknowledge it, he yanked her up and flipped her onto her back, tearing the simple bra open with one hand as the other roughly pulled down her leggings.

Her hands gripped his forearms as he slipped his hand into her wet panties, touching her hot core.

Her vision blurred when he slipped a finger into her.

_"Yes."_

He lightly bit her pretty pink nipple, slipping another finger into her, enjoying the way she tightened around them. Enjoying the moans and gasps as he moved his fingers deeper, picking up the speed as she whimpered, her face a delightful image, cheeks rosy and mouth bruised from his.

Watching her unravel, lose control in such a manner, left him speechless.

_"Come for me, Felicity._"

And she did, loud and beautifully. Her body arched, her muscles quivering as his fingers continued to pump her, sending shivers and spasms through her. Her fingers gripped his neck, digging in hard. Unable to hold back any longer, he spread her legs wide, and buried himself to the hilt into her.

_"Oh!"_

So this is what home felt like, she thought wildly as she welcomed him into her, watching his face.

They locked together like two pieces of a puzzle.

His hands mimicked her earlier movements, locking their fingers together over her head as he moved in and out of her, relishing in the feel of her.

_"More."_

He moved fast, picking the speed up.

She cried out when he bit down on the throbbing pulse on her neck.

She wrapped her legs around him, drawing him in closer.

Slick flesh against slick flesh, they moved together, faster, faster, _faster_.

_"Oliver."_

He didn't slow down, not even a bit – he moved in and out of her faster, flesh smacking against flesh, hands bruising and moans become ragged screams.

His name echoed all around them, her body no longer her own.

He kissed her hard, so close to his own release.

_"Felicity."_

They both came together, falling off the dangerous edge.

_They didn't move, their bodies still joined. _


	11. Bathtub

**AN: Well, I finally got round to updating! Sorry for the lack of updates - I have finals next week, so I've kinda been studying, and trying to battle away a writer's block. This next part is more focused on Oliver: I don't know if I've done his character any justice, but the Oliver Queen in my little shots plays it out like this. Thank you to everyone whose been following/favouriting/reviewing - this is for you. Enjoy! xo**

* * *

He couldn't think, couldn't breathe.

There she lay, in the corner of the seedy room, hands tied up, feet bound together, and her blonde hair dirty and soaked.

His hands itched to murder the ones he had left unconscious.

She looked up, eyes glazed over, strands of her hair plastered against her face.

_"Oliver?"_

Her voice, so small and hoarse, cut through his rage. He moved to her side, drawing out the small knife from his boot and cutting away the harsh ropes, so tight against her soft skin.

He cursed at the red marks on her wrists.

"We need to get you out now," he muttered, pushing back her hair. There were marks on her face too, marks he was sure _he_ would still see even when they faded away. Her clothes were tattered; the sleeve of her cardigan torn at the shoulder, her shirt dotted with blood – he was sure it wasn't just her own – and her skirt gathered in a bunch at mid-thigh.

She clung to him, nails digging into his neck as she whimpered.

"Don't look around you," he warned her, wanting to save her from seeing the chaos he had created in the narrow corridor. She pressed her face against his chest, closing her eyes tightly.

He moved quickly, stealthily, just in case he had missed any.

"Don't – Oliver!" Diggle shouted as he realized that it was his boss running up to the car he was waiting by. Knowing that there was no time to ask questions out in the open, he pulled the door open for them, watching Oliver set Felicity into the backseat.

"She's going to be okay," Diggle told him. Oliver didn't have the words, didn't have the ability to speak any sort of sense in that moment.

Diggle sped away from the horror and death of the alleyway.

* * *

She clung to him, even when they arrived in front of the Queen estate. She couldn't close her eyes for too long, in fear of the images that her mind would bring back again.

How many days had she been locked away in that room, with nothing but her own sobs echoing off the walls?

He didn't have the words that would comfort her – couldn't find them, no matter how deep he searched within himself. She never let go of him, but she didn't succumb to the fatigue he was sure her mind was trying to claim over her. He could imagine the kind of things she would see.

The things he couldn't stop, the things he had let happen to her for days.

When the car stopped in front of the mansion that he didn't even consider a home, he pulled her into his lap, ready for Diggle to open the door for them. She still shook; her hands were still unsteady.

"Don't let go. Please don't let go," she whimpered, and the helplessness washed over him again.

_No, he wasn't going to let go. _

But no words left his mouth as he stepped out the car with her, walking briskly to the entrance of the house and pushing the heavy door open.

No one seemed to be waiting around the main entrance – and he was glad. He wasn't ready to deal with questions, speculations, worried glances. He didn't want to answer to anyone in that moment – he didn't want to cover his tracks or become Oliver, the billionaire playboy.

He just wanted her safe.

"When my mother and Thea are home, let me know. Don't tell them Felicity's here, especially Thea. I don't want her to look too deep into this."

Diggle watched his partner quickly climb the stairs and turn towards the private corridor to his own wing.

He didn't follow – he didn't have to be a genius like Felicity to know it was their battle to deal with from there on.

* * *

Felicity listened to his steady heartbeat as he carried her down an unfamiliar corridor. Everywhere hurt – she didn't know whether she was dreaming or hallucinating. But the pain, it was unbelievably real.

She wondered how he did it, after everything he had been through. How did his mind cope with the memories that lurked in every corner? How did he stand up for a city that had failed him?

She sighed, trying to stop her mind. She didn't want to think anymore. She wanted to feel nothing for a little while, just until she was steady enough.

He stopped in front of an elaborate oak door, and lightly kicked it open.

Walking to the raised platform bed, he gently set her down.

She let go of him reluctantly, not ready to lose the comfort and heat he brought. But he eased her hands away, holding her small ones in his own.

"I'm going to run the bath for you," he managed to choke out, and bringing her hands up to his lips, he pressed soft kisses against her bruised knuckles.

It was the only affection he could show her in that moment.

He held it together until he reached the en suite, turning the extravagant jets on, watching the water fill up the humongous tub. It would soon run grey, he thought as he braced his hands against the white marble edge. It would run with twinges of red and black as she washed away the ordeal off her skin.

Had he ever been this scared, this terrified before?

Nothing had ever consumed him like Felicity had.

Running a hand over his face, he closed his eyes, trying to push back the image of her lying on the dirty, cold ground. He had brought her into this mess, this disarray that he called a life – and he couldn't even protect her.

Four days without her. Exactly ninety-nine hours. Give or take a few minutes.

She had left the Foundry fuming at him for wanting to keep her away from the next name. Sometimes, there was no reasoning with her. He had let her walk out, angry at him and probably cursing him in her mind over and over.

If only he had followed her out, made sure she reached her apartment safely.

But he hadn't. And wasn't that mighty fine? Letting his pride stop him from making sure she was safe.

What if he couldn't reach her the next time?

"Wow. That's a_ big _bathtub."

Straightening up, he looked at her, standing in the doorway, eyes big and mouth slightly agape as stared at the tub. Tucking away the emotions seeping through, he tried to keep his tone in check.

"It's ready. I'll wait for you in the bedroom –"

_"Don't leave."_

She gripped his forearm, eyes pleading with him as he hesitated.

Moving out of her grasp, he stepped away.

He pulled the door shut, locking it just in case.

She moved closer to the tub, slightly limping as she did so. His hands itched to examine her, to make sure that she was okay – that nothing more than bruised skin and a few cuts were there. But he didn't move, didn't attempt to. Her hands unbuttoned the flimsy shirt, and he stayed back as she shrugged out of it, letting it drop to the floor. Her skirt followed, and she peeled off the tattered opaque tights too.

"Remind me to burn them. I don't ever want to see those again," she broke the silence between them, looking over her shoulder at him. His eyes spoke volumes, the tamed anger; the caged animal obvious to her. But he hadn't uttered more than a couple of words since he had reached her, and she was losing herself in the silence.

"I'll take care of them," was all he managed to say, and she turned, facing him in only her underwear.

"Join me," she said; her voice steady as she held her head high. Couldn't he see that she needed the comfort he wasn't offering her? She ached for his hold, for a few meaningless words of comfort – for a gentle stroke over her hair. But he stood there, watching her as if he was waiting for her to break.

She was bruised, slightly battered – but she wouldn't break so easy.

Keeping her eyes on him, she took tentative steps forward, standing before him, close enough to see the doubt and fear that hid behind his guarded eyes. It was funny, how easy she could read him when she wasn't trying. She pulled the t-shirt over his head, letting it drop as she moved onto his pants.

He finally touched her, fingers gentle and soft as he trailed them over her forearms, shoulders and neck before he cupped her face and leaned in.

She closed her eyes, a lone tear escaping as he placed a kiss against her forehead.

_Another side to Oliver_, she thought as he kicked away his pants, _how many sides could one person have?_

He reached behind her, unhooking the simple bra. They moved over to the tub, and she pushed down her cotton panties as he lifted her slightly, allowing her to step into the gloriously hot water. She sighed, her body melting as she lowered herself down, eyes closing again.

"Wait."

She stopped, easing her eyes open to look at him. He stepped in, turning her so that her back was against his chest as he lowered them both down, his back against the tub as his hands pushed her knotted hair back from her face.

He couldn't stop the emotions from consuming him.

"I thought I would never reach you," he couldn't stop himself as he pulled her closer to him, "I thought I would never see you again. I've lived in hell itself, but it's nothing compared to what I felt in the last four days."

She didn't say anything – not that she would ever utter the right words. The tears she had been working to hold back fought against her flimsy control, the lump in her throat growing. His words had been the only thing on her mind in the last four days – and now she was back, all she wanted to do was stay by his side and never leave, ever again.

Her head dropped back as she felt the cold liquid of whatever shampoo it was against her hair, and her heart stumbled as his hands, so gentle, began to work through the mess that her blonde locks were.

"No one's ever washed my hair before. Then again, no one has ever had to save me from a big bad either. There's been many firsts with you, Oliver," she mumbled, her hands tracing absent patterns against his thighs.

"I doubt anyone's ever put you in danger like I have. Felicity," he started, combing his hands through the knotted hair to untangle it, "I – it's not easy for me to understand what I feel right now. I can't explain it, but I can't go through that again. You mean everything to me."

Was love supposed to feel like this? Her heart pounded in her ears as she turned around in his arms, eyes searching his. Was this what it felt like, to understand what love exactly is? The tears that had fallen silently still clung to her lashes, and he wanted to kiss them all away.

"That's all you need to say. I'll try keep away from danger. Pinky promise," she teased, leaning forward and pressing her lips against his. It was a kiss full off desperation, seeking familiarity – nothing about it was soft or gentle. She understood him perfectly; and wasn't that the beauty of the mess they had created?

"Let me look you over first. There's a first aid kit somewhere here."

"Later. Not now," she stopped him from making a move to leave the warm water.

His hands travelled up her sides, causing her breath to hitch. Her body craved his, shivering under his fingers.

Straddling him, she cupped his face.

_"Help me forget first."_

So he loved her, until the water turned cold and ran grey.

* * *

While she slept in his bed, under the thick covers, he stood by the window, looking out to the city that he had promised to save.

_He loved her. _

It was that simple, really. It wasn't complex or mind-boggling like it had been with Laurel near seven years ago. Nor were it complicated and a distant memory like it had been when he had come back. No, it was simple, straightforward. He didn't hide any of his faces from her. Felicity saw the real him, the one made up of many layers, many sides. She accepted him, stood by him, and helped him through everything.

Who else would've dived in, head first, like she had?

Looking over his shoulder, he stared at her sleeping form. The bruise on her cheekbone stood out against the creamy skin – the cut on her jaw was still an angry red. He had convinced her to let him look, to clean her wounds.

She had been reluctant, and he knew why.

_"I don't like the look in your eyes when you look at them. They're not permanent, Oliver."_

He doubted that he would be freed from the sight of her, battered and bruised, any time soon. Never had she been in such danger before. He had made sure of that, had tried to keep her away from both his identities. He had succeeded, until now.

He loved her. So completely, that he hadn't even realized until the thought of losing her had nearly driven him mad. How was he supposed to carry on the way he had, oblivious to it before, when he knew she would always been on his mind?

Looking away, he watched the night pass by slowly, listening to her steady breathing.

_He only joined her side when she called out for him, gently, in her sleep. _


	12. Party

**AN: So, I've finally got round to updating! CAUSE COLLEGE IS FINALLY OUT! I'm finished with finals, and now I'm free. So a slight word vomit happened, and this is quite long. There's also smut, so I'm warning those who don't like it beforehand! I hope you guys like this. If there are any mistakes, I am so sorry. I edited this while hungover, so my brain wasn't exactly happy about the exposure to the bright screen. xo**

* * *

"Felicity, your hack face is showing."

The blonde's head snapped up, and Oliver nearly laughed at the expression on her face. Trying to keep his own poker straight, he signaled for the valet to wait.

"What am I doing here again? This is entirely your fault," she narrowed her eyes at him, the hysteria building up again; "I can't believe I let you distract me with _sex_. Sex clouds the mind, and you do it well enough for me to forget the little common sense I actually possess. Why are you grinning? This is not funny! I'm about to be sick over your designer shoes and you're laughing. What kind of twisted person are you?"

Oliver leaned over, cupping her heated face in his hands. Without her glasses, her eyes were impossibly clear to read – and right now, he could see the fear clouding her blue orbs.

"Don't worry about it. It's just another one of those boring formal events. You work for this company too, Felicity," he told her, hitting the mark straight on with his words, "You have every right to be here as much as everyone else does."

Lifting her hand up, she rested her fingers around his wrist, the steady pulse soothing her fragile nerves slightly.

"I'm fine. It's fine. I'll be fine after a drink – or three. It's – how many times have I said fine? I'm great. Let's get out the car before I lose my nerve and pull a Cinderella at midnight on you."

"It's a good thing I know where you live then."

Felicity rolled her eyes as the valet pulled her door open, and she stepped out, making sure she didn't trip up on the front of the elegant dress.

Oliver buttoned up the front of his tuxedo, looking over her one final time. His eyes, so intense, sent shivers down her spine, the exposed skin giving her away.

"Shall we?" he asked her, and she slipped her hand in the crook of his elbow, breathing deeply before nodding.

It was going to be a long, long night.

* * *

If the Queens knew one thing, it was how to throw a party.

The atmosphere was friendly, even if she wasn't feeling particularly nice in that moment. The rich mingled with the associates of the company, the pretty secretaries danced with the playboys, and the established lines between them all became non-existent.

At least, it did for a couple hours.

But no one could deny that when Oliver Queen had walked through the high arcs of the double doors, it had caused a stir. She wanted to squirm under the watchful gazes, ready to bolt back out when she saw the obvious signs of gossip already starting. _Of course_ they were wondering who the blonde on his arm was – those who didn't know her were, anyway.

"Don't make your nerves obvious," his low voice carried to her, and she resisted the urge to stomp on his shiny shoes. It was easy enough for him to say, when he was used to every move of his being observed by everyone.

Luckily enough, Felicity saw Thea approaching them, a massive Cheshire smile gracing her beautiful features.

"Ollie!" she exclaimed, theatrics in full work, "It's nice to see your face for more than a few seconds, finally."

"Thea," Oliver greeted his younger sister, the warning in his playful tone obvious, "I'm sure you're aware of the eyes and ears around us at the moment. Let's not give them ideas."

Thea laughed, shaking back her straightened hair. Felicity couldn't help but admire the ease of the young girl; Thea Queen was well known for being a wild card, and never being the proper family host she was acquired to be at these events.

She wished she could borrow her mentality for a couple hours.

"Oh, you've given them ideas already. I think everyone was expecting this to be a public event of where they would get a couple of good, solid movie moments where you and Laurel pine away at each while she stands next to Tommy. But nope, you gunned that right into the ground, brother. Now everyone's wondering how _this_ is gonna play out."

Oliver tensed; his jaw locking as he looked over his sister's head and around them. He knew the truth behind Thea's teasing, because it was exactly the kind of gossip that fueled the bored rich of Starling City. His eyes swept over the expensively clad bodies, which were either glancing their way or blatantly whispering about the new developments.

He pulled Felicity close to his side, his hand around her waist.

If it was visual confirmation they required, he was more than happy to oblige.

"That dress is lovely, by the way," Thea complimented Felicity, eyes sweeping over the blonde again, "I wish I could wear a dark green like you do. Where's it from?"

Oliver, realizing that girl talk was about to commence, rolled his eyes.

"Before you two begin exchanging every little painful detail about outfits, I'm going to excuse myself. Mom probably wants to speak to me too. You'll be fine with Thea?" Oliver asked, looking down at Felicity, who looked relieving less tense.

"Yes, don't worry about me. I know you have some sort of duties to do too. Go be Oliver Queen for now," he smiled at the private joke, so quick and full of charm, that Felicity was surprised her knees didn't give in right there and then.

Was it any wonder that she had fallen for every side of him?

Thea kept her eyes on Felicity, the smirk gracing her features once again.

"I'm glad I was rooting for you. You're good for him," she confessed, and Felicity looked at Thea, eyes full of surprise.

"He's happy. I told you, you make him forget about the burden he's made himself believe he has to carry. Many parts of Oliver are still on that island, no matter how long he's been back here. But with you, he's so different. I hope Roy looks at me the way Oliver does at you."

Thea's words, so sincere and genuine, hit home with Felicity. Smiling, she linked arms with the younger woman and headed over to a secluded corner.

"I haven't met Roy, so maybe you should introduce me to him and let me judge how he looks at you."

"Oh, I'm so holding you up for that. That is, if he figures out how to get into the tux I left at his place. It's hard trying to tame a feral creature, you see."

Their laughter carried through the place.

* * *

"Are you serious?! You are my new idol, Felicity Smoak. I don't know if I should be impressed or worried about how much you can access," Thea laughed, sipping on the champagne that she technically wasn't allowed to drink. Felicity, a blush rising up to her cheeks, shrugged. It was more that she was uncomfortable than embarrassed, which always led to her colour rising.

"He was a brute, not to mention a bully. He was disgustingly rude and treated the women in the departments like sex objects. He had these beady black eyes – _see_! That's creepy," she waved a hand as Thea blanched at the description of the man, "So I just placed a few surprises on his home system, and _a lot_ on his work one."

"Now I know who to call when I need someone to hack into-"

"Thea?"

Felicity turned around, the easy smile on her face faltering as she realized Moira Queen was standing behind her, a polite smile gracing her features. Felicity sent up a silent prayer that the woman in question hadn't heard her daughter's unfinished statement.

'Cause otherwise, her hack face would probably make a return.

"Oh, hey mom," Thea shook her head slightly as she moved forward to her mother's side, "I'm guessing this is when I clock in as 'still present'?"

Moira shot her daughter a disapproving glance, even though she knew as well as Thea and Felicity that she was indeed checking up on her youngest child.

"I'm just making sure you're… entertained and occupied."

"I'm definitely not bored. Felicity's been keeping me company. She's Oliver's date, and the reason why he's always smiling like a goofball at his phone. She also happens to work for QC and I, for one, think she deserves a promotion. Computer whizz extraordinaire."

Felicity nearly groaned at the introduction. Trust Thea to pull one on her and dump every little detail on her mother's head from the very moment. It would be just _her_ luck to have to face Moira Queen, CEO of the company, her boss and her boyfriend's mother without said individual even _present_. Moira's eyebrows rose at her daughter's words.

"IT Department, isn't that correct? I think Walter has mentioned you before. He was very impressed with your work."

"Yes, Felicity Smoak. Though I don't want, or need, a promotion. I'm happy with my job - and thank you," she babbled out, wishing the ground would just swallow her up.

"Everyone needs a promotion; we value exceptional work here at Queens Consolidate. Don't look so frightened, Ms. Smoak. I think Thea seems to think it is a joke to put you in an uncomfortable position. She thinks the work we do here is a joke too, so she grabs every opportunity she can to put the employees of QC on the spot," Moira teased, though the obvious disapproval coloured her voice. Felicity, feeling slightly dazed, wondered if Thea went around embarrassing her fellow colleagues all the time.

_Stop thinking so hard and focus_, she scolded herself.

"Of course I think it's a joke - I don't know how you guys do it, cooped up in here. Though Felicity _does_ get brownie points, because she was clever and managed to snag a Queen to ogle at while working," Thea said offhandedly, and chuckled when Felicity squeaked from horror, the blush rising straight up the pretty blonde's neck.

"I - this - I don't ogle at Oliver. Well, I _do_, but not at work. He doesn't pay any visits to the IT Department. Only when he needs help with 21st Century technology, because y'know, he _was_ stranded for five years. And that's not even relevant," she hurried out, flabbergasted at her own words, "That's unprofessional. I - well, this is unprofessional too, because I'm dating your son, and you're my boss. I can stop dating him though, if it's inappropriate -"

"Yeah, it takes a while to get used to the rambling," Thea cut Felicity off, putting her out of her misery. Moira, looking slightly dazed herself, looked from her daughter to the blonde.

"Well… I can see why Thea's taken a liking to you. And Oliver as well. You're a wonderfully blunt character, Ms. Smoak," Moira shocked Felicity, and she vaguely noted down that all three Queens had managed to shock her speechless.

"Thank you? That relieves my mind slightly, because I've managed to put my foot into my mouth completely this evening."

To her complete and utter surprised, Moira Queen chuckled at the blonde's remark.

"I've dealt with worse. Have a nice evening, Ms. Smoak. I'll see you in a short while, Thea," the older Queen excused herself, walking back towards the guests.

"Well, I was expecting a bit more, to be fair."

Felicity turned to Thea, her eyes narrowed.

"_What?"_ the younger girl laughed, waving a hand in the air, "I was _so_ ready for a Freudian slip or something! It's slightly disappointing that you didn't mention your sex life. Now _that_ would have been inappropriate."

"Thea Queen, you're going to pay for that."

"Stop looking like a beetroot with a bad dye job, Blondicity, then threaten me."

Shaking her head, Felicity drowned her flute of champagne.

* * *

Oliver watched her, situated in a corner with his sister, a tall flute in her hand and her face relaxed as the two ladies laughed over their conversation.

He had done his duties for the night, mingling and rubbing elbows with the necessary people, putting up a façade that left him feeling uncomfortable in his own skin. It put everything into perspective, really – the pretentious and pitiful existence he used to embark on, before the island. Now, he could see why nothing had felt important, or even remotely real.

Because the people he had associated with, the lifestyle he had pursued hadn't been real.

Even when he had returned, adamant on fulfilling his promise to his father, the Hood hadn't felt real either. With nothing but the List, he had focused every fiber of his being to the mission.

It wasn't surprising he had still felt lost in the only place he had known as home.

He smiled to himself, a rare, boyish smile, as he watched Felicity throw her head back and really laugh.

Remarkable, admirable Felicity.

And then she turned her head, her beautiful eyes meeting his gaze.

_Everything made perfect sense in that moment._

He had fallen in love with Laurel so quickly, that it had terrified him. He had fallen in love with the thrill surrounding Sarah, that it had made him a terrible person. He had fallen in love with the crazy notion that he could save Helena, that it had made him face terrible consequences.

But the gentle squeeze of his heart, the sudden understanding that settled over him, made him realize that it was nothing compared to what he felt in that exact moment.

With Felicity, he had fallen in love slowly, easily, without realizing so.

He moved over to where she stood; a magnificent sight in the dark green silk dress. It was different to the ones he had become accustomed to – the fluid flow of the column accentuating her slim frame, the thin straps leaving her shoulders and upper back bare. The colour, so ironically close to the shade his Hood was, illuminated her pale, creamy skin.

She was his.

"Has mom finally let you go then?" Thea asked as Oliver placed a hand on Felicity's back, drawing her close to his side. She instinctively leaned against him, and he resisted the urge to kiss her.

"I've finished my rounds, so I'm off the hook, young one. Sucks to be you," he added playfully, which earned him a light slap to the chest.

"I know my cue when I see it. She's all yours Ollie – for now," Thea winked at Felicity before turning on her Jimmy Choo's and walking to Moira's side. Oliver could already feel the tension seeping back into Felicity as many of the eyes that had been waiting for them to come side by side again turned towards them.

Felicity squirmed under his touch, her fingers drumming an inconsistent beat against her small clutch.

"Relax," he murmured, tracing faint patterns against the silk material of her dress. She looked up at him, eyes defensive.

"It's really not easy to _relax_ when majority of the Starling blue-bloods and my fellow co-workers are staring at us," she told him dryly, looking over his shoulder, "And they're all wondering the same thing. _Why is Oliver Queen with the hired help?"_

His fingers stopped mid-motion.

"You are _not_ the hired help. Who I choose to bring as a date is not their concern. They _try_ to make it their business, but it isn't. At all."

"Even_ so_," she muttered, unable to stop her mouth, "It's not a wonder that they are curious. It's not every day that someone they know is being touched by a Queen. They're eyes are unnerving me. It makes me feel naked. Well, technically I _am_ semi naked, as I don't have panties on, but I feel like they can see through me. How do you-"

His breath caught.

"_Did you say no panties?_" Oliver uttered.

"Uh, well, this dress sucks because panty line is unavoidable. So I had to go commando."

Oliver groaned.

"What? Is that not allowed? Is there like a rule – _oh_," she swallowed the rest of her words as she saw the dark gleam in his eyes. She felt the heat pooling in her belly as his hand inch unbearably lower, fingers skimming over her ass.

"You really don't have underwear on," he confirmed, and couldn't stop himself from tightening his hold on the soft flesh under his hand, "Felicity, you are _killing_ me."

"There are many rooms in this building."

He blinked, frowning. Her eyes grew wide as she realized exactly what she was hinting at.

Oliver's face changed as he caught on.

"Well, I'm thoroughly surprised."

"I'm sorry, I don't-"

"Let's go."

Without warning, he linked their fingers and pulled her towards the stage where the live orchestra was situated. She couldn't think, let alone speak up, as she was trying hard not to trip or accidentally step on the column of her dress.

She yelped when he took a sudden turn, and he pulled her close to his side as he keyed something into what looked suspiciously like a hidden code panel.

"Oliver, where on earth are you dragging me?" she managed as the locks clicked back. He held the door open for her, and she hitched her dress up, making it easier for her to walk.

Though when he eyes adjusted to the dimly lit area, she realized she wouldn't do much walking.

She would instead be climbing stairs covered in lush carpet.

"This is the private stairway to every single floor. Take your pick," he told her, delighted with the way her eyes grew wide as her mouth went slack.

"Wow. Seriously impressed. How did I never notice this before?!"

"It's a private stairway, Felicity."

"I know that now, don't-"

He cut her off with his lips, silencing her with a kiss full of desire and dark, dark promises. She melted into his arms, letting him take control as he pressed her to the wall, and she decided that it was a glorious feeling, the hard feel of him against her and the wall behind. His hands skimmed up her sides, hitching the dress up.

"Up. We need to go up," she broke away from the kiss, breathless and so unbelievably turned on. Grabbing his hand, she began to pull him up the stairs, another hand holding her dress up from the hem.

They burst through the doors, a heap of tangled limbs and lips. The ever so practical Felicity was astonished at her, but she couldn't care less.

This Felicity, Oliver's Felicity, was dying to drown in him, didn't care about the fact that they were displaying inappropriate behaviour where they could get caught.

"Where's an office?" he growled out, voice raw with lust. She pointed to her right, and he swept her up into his arms, heading to the door she was pointing at.

Her heart slammed against her rib-cage, completely awestruck at the way he had picked her up. It was a silly little detail, but one that made her lovesick heart sigh.

He kicked the door lightly, pushing them through into the moon-lit office. He didn't let her go; instead, he moved over to the sleek chrome desk, setting her on top of it.

"You're so beautiful."

He couldn't take his eyes off her – she was a vision, braced against the top of the desk, half covered by the shadows, hair mussed from his hands.

She let his words settle over her heart, before reaching out for him and pulling him to her, lips meeting halfway.

Her teeth nipped at his bottom lip; his hands pushed down the thin straps of her dress.

In a frenzy, he unbuttoned the front of his tux while Felicity, caught up in the moment, swept the papers and clutter on the desk to the floor.

She slid off the desk, letting the dress pool at her stiletto cladded feet.

He hissed through his teeth, his pants impossibly tight. Only wearing a minuscule, strapless bra, she stood before him, like a goddess.

How was it possible to still want her so desperately?

He pulled her flush against him, mouth on her soft neck as she reached for the button of his pants. Her cool, slightly unsteady hand slipped into his underwear, and he swore his vision turned red when he felt her stroke his rigid erection.

"Felicity," he moaned, hands on her firm ass. She nuzzled his neck, enjoying the momentary control she had over him. It was rare for Oliver to completely lose himself, to completely let go – in the development of their relationship, he was always so guarded, so careful.

She craved more.

Flipping the positions, she pushed him against the desk, hands swiftly pushing down his pants and briefs. Pooled around his ankles, he made an attempt to kick his shoes off, but she wasn't about to allow him a moment to gather himself together.

She pushed him back until he was flat on his back, and then straddled his hips, so they met, core to core.

She was ready for him, hot and wet as she guided him into her.

_"Now."_

Her hips rocked slowly, her hands splayed on the front of his shirt that he hadn't even had the chance to unbutton. But he didn't care. In that moment, she was all that mattered. Eyes staring straight into his, bodies joined, she led him to the edge of insanity, hard and fast.

His hands bruised her hips.

Her nails dug into his covered shoulders.

Flesh against flesh, they came together.

Breathing heavily, she braced her hands against the cool metal.

"I think I heard – _OH MY GOD_."

Felicity screamed as she turned her head, nearly tipping off Oliver's lap.

"_Felicity?! Oliver?!_ Oh, this is _disgusting_!" Thea screamed, throwing a hand up in front of her eyes, "I can't believe I just saw your ass! Oh, I think I'm going to be sick. I'm leaving. Get yourselves sorted out! This is the one thing I never wanted to witness, ever."

Thea left, a hand still over her eyes, mumbling and cursing at them.

Felicity, thoroughly embarrassed, slipped off Oliver's lap and covered her burning face with her hands.

Oliver stayed where he was, eyes shut tightly as he tried to acknowledge what had just happened.

"I don't know if I should be laughing or cursing. My baby sister just walked in on us."

She wanted to sit on the floor, but she held back from doing so. Peaking from between her fingers, she saw what a hilarious image Oliver made – his trousers a heap at his ankles, shirt barely covering his modesty, eyes shut.

A giggle escaped from her mouth, causing him to look at her.

"It's not funny."

"I know, it isn't. Though, it is one of those situations that will become funny, in a couple of years or so. Nice story to tell at a family dinner. Or that's what happened when I relayed the horrific details to everyone at Christmas about catching my parents in the backyard when I was fifteen. It's a horrifying funny, that's what it is," she rambled on, bending down to gather her dress from the floor, "I'm hoping that this material doesn't crinkle."

Slipping the dress over her head quickly, she smoothed it down, before looking at him again.

This time, she laughed.

He sat up, moving off the desk and pulling his bottoms up, shaking his head at her. But it was a pretty sight, watching her laugh.

Thea poked her head through the door, eyes closed.

"Are you both in clothes? 'Cause I think I've seen enough of Felicity for a lifetime. No offence, though. You have a cute butt."

"It's safe to look, Thea," Oliver answered, picking up his forgotten blazer. Thea risked a glance and saw that the two rabbits were dressed, though the sign of their romp was stamped all over them.

"Felicity, you look like a woman who's had a quickie. So do you Oliver, but I'm not helping you sort yourself out. If you need anyone, Roy's just outside."

"What?" he straightened up, body tensing, "Why were you wandering around an empty building with him?"

"Not exactly for the same reasons as you and Felicity did. Mom wanted me to find you, because she thought you had managed to sneak out from under her watchful gaze. Roy only came along to keep my company. Though I wish I had sent Diggle up," Thea muttered, "He would have been in for a nice surprise."

They awkwardly stepped out of the office, and Felicity saw Roy Harper, in the flesh, up close, for the first time.

It wasn't any wonder Thea was smitten with him. His jaw line alone could have her hooked.

She was pretty sure that if she grazed her hand, it would cut her palm open.

"Uh, hi," he managed to get out, struggling to meet their gaze. Felicity realized that it was probably because both herself and Oliver looked like rumpled teenagers on prom night.

She started to blush again.

"Harper," always one to intimidate, Oliver put out his hand, and the young man shook it, obviously uncomfortable more than afraid of Oliver.

"Roy, this is Oliver's girlfriend, Felicity Smoak. Smoakin' Hot, this is my pretty boy, Roy Harper," Thea ignored the tense stance of her brother as she made the introductions. Felicity smiled at Roy, deciding that she would be the nicer person.

"It's nice to finally put a face on you. Thea's practically been 'Roy this' and 'Roy that' since we've met."

"I doubt everything she says is nice. It's nice to meet you to, even though, well, um, it is slightly awkward," he admitted, letting go of her hand. She smiled sheepishly.

"I think I'm going to quickly go to the ladies room, and freshen up. I'll meet you downstairs?" she asked Oliver, turning her face up to him. He nodded, before rolling his eyes and giving her a small peck.

"Take your time. If you don't see me with these two, stay with them. I'll probably be talking to some of the senior management members. I don't want you to be bored to death, and you can keep an eye on _Thea_," he stated, though they all knew what he exactly meant.

When she stepped into the ladies room, she leaned against the cool tiles, and let her head fall back.

"Congratulations, Felicity. Way to go."

* * *

He stood on the rooftop of Queens Consolidate, watching the city.

It was a fascinating sight, the city he knew as home from up here. No one could see the cracks or debris of a broken city – the bright lights blindsided you, the night sky creating a beautiful illusion.

But he knew better. Even without his Hood, he could see the underlying chaos.

He was looking hard enough.

When he heard the telltale sounds of her heels, he smiled gently. Hands in his pockets, feet set apart, he didn't turn around – he didn't have to. Not with her, anyway.

He trusted her enough to know she would never stab him in the back.

Shado had been the voice of reason, the wonder that had enhanced every single sense within him. But it had been Slade that provided him with the mindset.

_Never turn your back on anyone. You don't know who will attempt to stab you._

She came to stand by his side, arms folded across her chest as she looked out to the city.

"It's wonderful from up here. And I think the wind is probably blowing out the few crinkles in the dress, so a bonus for that too. You wouldn't think that there was a single thing wrong with this city from this view," she voiced his thoughts, and he turned to look at her.

It was the perfect moment.

"I want to explain something to you," he started, turning back to look at the city again, "I want to stop the wrongdoings in this city. It's been my home all my life, no matter which Oliver I was. But I don't know who or what I'm fighting against. It could be anything, and I've dragged you and Diggle into this too. Because," he carried on when she tried to interrupt him, "I can't save a city all by myself. I need you both, and I do have you both. It's a blessing, and a curse."

"Yeah, that makes me feel so appreciated."

He laughed, looking towards his left, where he knew the Queen mansion was towards.

It wasn't where home was anymore.

"I came back with a bow and a lost mind. I looked for comfort in the memories of the past, before I realized everything I needed was right in front of me. You make me better, Felicity. It's without a doubt all down to you why I managed to find some sort of closure against the demons in my mind."

She smiled, and it moved him, to see the tears in her eyes.

"I'm not made of anything good, Felicity. There's a lot of evil, a lot of demons still within me. I don't want to ask you to fight them for me, because they're mine to deal with. But I do want you by my side, no matter how selfish that sounds. And you know the risks, as well as I do."

"The risks don't outweigh the good, Oliver. It doesn't outweigh the cause," she whispered, turning to him slightly. But he still didn't look at her, couldn't until he laid it all out.

"Everything I touch has a tendency to die."

"Not true. Look at _me_. I've learnt to live because you came into my life, Oliver. As much as I've helped you, you've helped me. You made me break out of that tiny shell I was hidden in. I know the risks, and the outcomes. I have the choice to stay, or to leave. And I know that with you, you'd let me go if I wanted to. You would give me the choice, and that doesn't make you selfish," she declared, voice steady and full of emotion. She was breathtaking, the rich green dress a flowing curtain around her as the wind played havoc with it. She mesmerized him, no matter what she wore; if she had her contacts in or not; whether her hair was in a tight ponytail or cascading down her shoulders.

He glanced at her finally, linking their fingers together.

Just in case she needed the support.

"I should warn you though. I'm in love with you."

_"What?!"_

"I'm in love with you. So I don't plan on letting you leave, Felicity Smoak."

_He was right about the support._


	13. Roy

**HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII! Okay, I know it's been AGES since I last updated - but I've been on holiday and work was a bitch and I didn't have time. I've finally written out what is kind of the start to the next chapter, which is gonna cover about six months/to a year of Team Arrow. I hope you guys like this (short, sorry) update, and I love you all! xo**

* * *

"Oh good, you're back – I just figured out that –"

She stopped short when she realized that it wasn't Oliver entering the Foundry, but Roy.

"And you're not Oliver," she stated, hands out in front of her as the younger boy stood at the bottom of the stairs, face grim and jaw set. She didn't need to know him to recognize the tell-tale signs of anger.

Felicity squared her shoulders, ready for whatever was to come.

"So he's been the Hood all this time?"

Knowing that she couldn't avoid the question, especially when it was already a given that he knew, she nodded, eyes on him.

"I'm slightly shocked. I thought it was you."

_"What?!" _

"I thought it was you," he repeated, staring at her while she gaped, "It honestly made sense for the Hood to be you. But then I figured… Actually, I didn't."

Felicity nearly blanched when she realized that she had pretty much given up Oliver's secret.

"Are you okay? 'Cause you look like you're about three seconds from passing out, and as much as I'm angry with Oliver, I don't want an arrow in me for making his girlfriend faint."

She didn't faint, but she did sit back down.

Her knees didn't feel so steady.

* * *

When Oliver stepped into the Foundry two hours later, head ready to burst and hand over the cut on his arm, he had every intention of just convincing Felicity to drive him to her place and just stay there for a few days – or a week.

What he hadn't anticipated was to see Roy sitting by Felicity, eyes unreadable and fingers tapping against the sleek desk.

For a wild second, he thought of moving into the shadows, but it was too late – Felicity looked up, eyes locking with his own.

He tried to feel something other than exhaustion, but realized that it wasn't really happening.

Sighing, he dropped the bow in its designated spot, moving towards them.

"Harper," he acknowledged the boy, who didn't move from his seat. In fact, he got straight to the point.

"I want in."

Well, points for Harper – Oliver felt disbelief kicking in, along with traces of annoyance.

"Oh boy," Felicity muttered, dropping her head into her hands. This was happening. This was a thing right now. Of course the idiot had to try intimidating Oliver. As if there weren't a lot of sharp objects lying about.

"_Excuse_ me?"

Apparently, Roy Harper had some sort of death wish. This was _not _what she advised him.

"Look, I just heard it all from your girlfriend – and I want in. We don't need to drag this out, there's no need for unnecessary theatrics or whatever. That's why I've been looking for the Hood, because I want to help. I originally thought it was Felicity –"

"Yeah, because I really _do_ look like the kind of person who jumps from rooftops and gets all dramatic," Felicity muttered, head still in her hands.

"But now I know it's you, and after the whole 'holy shit, my girlfriend's brother is actually more than a rich intimidating jerk' reaction, I can understand why it is you. Let me help. I want to feel useful in this goddamn city, and – I can help," Roy faltered, looking at Felicity as if she could maybe help him.

God, he _really_ did have a cute puppy face.

Not to mention he liked Person of Interest. If that didn't scream right choices concerning TV shows, nothing did.

"He can help."

_"What?"_

Felicity looked at the man she was in love with then, straightening in her seat as she decided that Roy Harper, the potential brother-in-law to said lover (because Thea was honest to God serious about him) could actually be part of Team Arrow.

Not that she would ever tell Oliver (or Diggle) that she referred to them as that.

"He can help. Don't give me that look; it doesn't work anymore," she scolded him when his eyes went carefully blank, "But I know he can be useful. He's pretty resourceful – considering he does know a lot of shady people in the shady parts."

"I _did_," Roy muttered, shooting her a narrowed look. He really didn't want his balls pierced with an arrow, considering he was with the man's sister.

"He has connections. That's one. He has moves – he did save Thea, after all."

"It was_ his_ fault that she was attacked in the first place," Oliver's cool voice didn't go unnoticed by her.

"Bigger picture, Queen, look at the bigger picture. So, I'm pretty sure he has moves that can rival yours. Also, he has a pretty good head on his shoulders – he watches POI," she couldn't help but shoot him a smile that nearly knocked Roy off his chair. He saw it, in that moment. He had wondered how the two worked, with the small pieces he had seen of them over the last year. Had asked Thea why she thought they were perfect when he had seen them argue, voices loud and clear. But there was no way he could miss the way Oliver's face softened, the way his eyes gave everything away in that moment when Felicity was smiling at Roy.

Oh yeah, he could definitely see why she was Oliver's world as much as she was part of the team.

"But beyond that, Roy missed out an important detail. I gave you away – he didn't figure out it was you, not when he stepped into here."

Well, so much for thinking he'd do her a favour by keeping that one quiet.

"And he's still sitting here, after I explained everything to him, with his only request being he joins us. He's trustworthy above everything else. He _didn't_ go running to the cops, he _didn't_ go to Thea; he _didn't_ go to the media. He sat down and listened, even though he didn't have to. He doesn't have an ulterior motive behind his actions, Oliver. He just wants to help. And isn't that what we want?"

He was definitely joining Thea's 'We Love Blondicity' fan club.

* * *

She watched Oliver as he moved around her bedroom with ease, rolling his shoulder with slight discomfort. He hadn't let her tend to his wound, which had hurt slightly. She hadn't let the surprise show when he had eased away from her touch, but that was only because he had taught her how to school her features, how to draw her emotions in. It had felt wrong, fussing around the living room while he was in the bathroom.

For the first time since the beginning, she second-guessed what instinct had wanted her to do.

"I'm not angry at you."

Blinking, she met his gaze.

"I can read you well, Felicity. And I'm not angry at you – you didn't do anything wrong. I'm not happy with letting Roy in so quickly, but what you said was true."

He moved towards her, for the first time since he'd walked into the Foundry.

"It doesn't mean that I will trust him with everything. He can help – he can prove himself. Everyone has a story, and he obviously has one too. I just want to ask you one thing," he kneeled down in front of her, where she was seat on the bed. She looked down at him, placing her hands over his that rested on her knees.

"I want you safe, and I want you to be careful around him. Nothing matters to me more than the fact that I need you by my side," his voice didn't shake, his eyes didn't divert from hers.

Her heart sighed as she remembered his heart belonged to her so fiercely, so openly.

"He's been by Thea's side for months now. He's passed my checks with flying colours, even with his track record with the police," she grinned sheepishly at him, "But I understand what you want me to do. Nothing comes before my duty to keep you alive, Queen."

He chuckled, and she let instinct take over again.

She let her fingers lace behind his neck as she parted her legs, pulling him to her chest and drawing in his scent.

His arms came around her, anchoring them both into the moment as he listened to her heartbeat, so familiar – _home_, he thought as she sighed into his hair, this is home.

"I'm sorry I –"

"Don't apologize for that. Someone walks into the Foundry, you automatically think they know. It did more good than bad," he reassured her, letting his fingers play up and down her spine.

"I love you, Oliver."

He pressed a light kiss against her heartbeat, steady and strong like her words. She knew he needed them, but she didn't. She felt them through his touch. And it was more than enough.

They stayed like that for a little while.

* * *

The next day, Roy was waiting for them in the club when they walked in.

"I am deadly serious when I say that this is the_ last_ time, Oliver. Last time you ever pull off –"

"Are we really going to discuss this for the fourth time, Felicity? I don't want to deal with –"

"God, you are such a baby! It's not –"

They both stopped as they noticed him, smirking while leaning against the coded door.

"Good morning to you both too."

Felicity mumbled under her breath as Oliver ignored him, punching the code in and moving down the stairs without waiting for them.

"C'mon, let's get this over with. Don't touch my computers, by the way."

"Okay, mom."

Felicity laughed as she shouldered past him.


End file.
